


Once Bit (Twice Shy)

by tokidoki_smile



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Needs Love, Bonding, Canon-Typical Violence, Confrontation, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Domestic Violence, First Kiss, Flirting, Friendship/Love, Homophobic Language, Hopper's a Hero, Insecurity, M/M, OOC Billy, OOC steve, POV Alternating, POV Billy Hargrove, PTSD, Protective Steve Harrington, Secret Crush, Steve Harrington is a mom, billy is bad at feelings, billy is trying to control his anger, mentions of child abuse, steve harrington is a boss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2019-05-10 10:11:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14734992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokidoki_smile/pseuds/tokidoki_smile
Summary: Billy is attacked by a stray demodog and finds himself in the hands of the people he’d least expect to stick their necks out for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a little (kinda, sort of) fluffy something (not too serious I hope), because, it’s what came up in my head…  
> My Billy is kinda out of character. But he doesn’t have a clue about the stuff happening at Hawkins, and he’s not sure he’s gonna live, so, he’s kind of subdued. I believe that Billy is a very intelligent guy, so finding himself in the situation that he does; I feel he’d react in a gotta get through this kind of mindset, since being angry and violent would result in getting nowhere (he’s also working on reigning in his violent outbursts).
> 
> Honestly, I really wanted to write something before they are together, where they both have major crushes on each other but are too thick to pick up on it...

His vision flickered, dropping out of focus ahead of him, his brain reeling like a top; the one word he could muster was the last thing he would’ve ever thought to say: _Beautiful_.

But that’s what it was, the long form sweeping past him, bat in hand as it swung, it seemed like a terrible baseball swing, but then again it wasn’t a baseball it was swinging at.

His head thunked against the half-frozen ground, at least he was going to be dead.

* * *

 

Except when he came to, it was to the realization he was very much alive. Not just that, but apparently in the care of the nerd squad.

He was sure of it, by the altering squawks of the curly haired kid in the ball cap, as he bolted from the room as though he could be a threat to his life.

To be fair, he didn’t have a good track record with Max’s friends.

He groaned pulling himself up and swinging his feet off the noisy twin bed.

“Alright- Alright I got it!” Harrington’s exasperated voice called suddenly from the hallway, his voice dropped to mumble something to someone. Billy watched the open door, his eyes drifted around the room, it was definitely a middle schooler’s, whose house? He didn’t know them or care enough to know.

Though he had some questions, his eyes narrowed sharply at the open door as he strained to hear. Just then, Harrington stepped into the room, he shuffled his feet as though he wanted to turn back into the hall, not expecting to see him, sitting up and conscious.

“Billy!” Steve chirped awkwardly, hand gripping the door jamb, as he swiveled his head back to the hall and then back to him. “You’re up.”

“Harrington,” Billy called voice gruff, gaze set on him; he’d stand and try to intimidate some answers out of him, but his throbbing head made him feel his feet might still be unsteady. So, he opted to sit, just looking at him seemed to be enough as Steve fidgeted in front of him. Finally, Steve closed the door and moved closer, he stopped and leaned his hip against the dresser folding his arms over his chest.

He cleared his throat nervously, the light from the lamp on the nightstand just barely lit the room but seemed to soften his features. His face had long since healed up, of course it had been almost six months since they’d last shared space somewhere other than school.

“Alright,” Steve began, Billy raised and expectant eyebrow. Steve paused under his gaze. “Shit-”

“Spit it out Harrington,” Billy barked leaning forward resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Look-” Steve began again, drawing a hand through his hair. “There’s some shit going down around here,”

“What kind of shit do you have my idiot step-sister mixed up in?” Billy groaned, Steve shoulders tightened.

“Serious shit, Hargrove.” Steve remarked. “You’re in it too.”

Billy’s face cracked in an amused smile. He seemed so dead serious, brows furrowed and pursed lips. Max’s friends were a who’s-who of middle school rejects, what kind of _serious shit_ could they possibly get into?

“Good try Harrington. A for effort though,” Billy rebuffed pulling himself to his feet, suddenly he felt the world go lop-sided and he felt himself falling sideways, towards the nightstand. Steve pushed off the dresser catching his bicep in time to keep him on his feet and steer him back to the bed.

With a groan of the box spring beneath him, Billy was back on the bed. His vision blurry and unfocused, as Steve knelt in front of him.

Billy could just see the concern pinch of his eyebrows as his vision focused and the worry was replaced with a huff of exasperation.

“Yeah, you too Hargrove. You feel it yet? You got bit-”

“Bit!?” Billy snapped, feeling his pulse quicken, he swatted Steve away. “Bit by what?”

“A demo-dog.” A voice called from the cracked bedroom door. Billy shot the curly-haired kid a glare and he froze on the spot.

“ _Steve said he’d do it_!” A sharp female voice scolded, pulling the door closed- Billy was 85% sure it was Max.

“Yeah,” Steve continued, back in front of the dresser. “Um… Like a compound word, uh, a Demogorgon-dog, it’s uh, a monster.”

Billy looked at him eyes wide; bullshit. He scowled as he studied Steve’s face looking for any crack, any tell, an in to the joke.

“You don’t feel anything?” Steve asked clearly confused.

“Feel what? I’m fine.” Billy growled, ignoring the thrum of blood coursing hard at his temple.

Steve reached for his right arm and jerked it in front of him, tugging the shredded sleeve of his shirt up to reveal white gauze wrapped thick around his forearm.

Billy’s brows furrowed, and his mouth fell slack looking at it. He yanked his arm free and tore at the bandages. There was no pain in his arm; whatever the hell these assholes were playing at, it ended now.

Billy ferociously unwound the bandage but what he found underneath was a mess of diamond-shaped punctures and discolored skin. The pit of his stomach lurched forward, and he swallowed back the mess of nerves and nausea.

He looked at Steve, concern etched across his soft face again.

“We’ve never had someone bitten.” Steve explained voice hushed, warm brown eyes worried. “We don’t know what it means.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments!  
> It's Billy meets the kids take two! With a surprising confession from Steve.  
> Updates will be small but I'll try to make up for it with frequency.

Billy felt it kick in his chest. Danger, a threat.

No matter how unrealistic what Harrington was telling him sounded. It wasn’t a lie. His arm spoke volumes, it should be screaming pain; it’s what his brain told him he should feel.

But it didn’t hurt and somehow that felt worse. He felt the urge to get up and move, pace, work out the energy coiling tight in his muscles, but he didn’t trust his damn legs.

He glanced at him, the way Harrington kept looking at him made his skin prickle and flash hot all over. No one ever looked at him like that; worried about him, what he might say or do, never _worried for him_.

“Is this the shit you and those dweebs are involved with? Monsters!?” Billy snapped eyes fierce and wild.

Steve pulled back, away from him, he fidgeted folding his arms back and gave a stiff nod. Billy huffed a laugh and glanced back at his arm. It looked terrible, maybe hospital worthy- not that he would go.

“Where the hell is Max? We’re getting the hell out of here-”

Billy made to get up, when the door burst open, Max glared at him.

“We’re not going anywhere.”

Billy’s mouth ticked as though to smile before he ran his hand over his face.

“Yes. We are.” Billy countered voice dropping dangerously low. Steve went very still eyes fixed on him. Max’s hand clenched the doorknob. Nerves pulled tight between the three; memories of November thumping in each tense moment.

“ _I’m_ not.”

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth and sucked in a sharp breath.

“This is not a discussion.” He raised his mangled arm at her. “Do you see this?”

Max flinched at the sight of it.

“Whatever you, and these nerds are playing at, it ends here. This isn’t a game-”

“Exactly! No one knows what’s happening, or how to deal with it better than these dorks.” Max pressed, shoulders shaking.

Billy held his gaze on her, after a long agonizing silence. Billy exhaled through his nose pulling his violent anxiousness back. It felt like wresting a bear into a small cage. He rolled his eyes up towards Steve. Wordlessly conceding.

Steve cleared his throat and nodded, gesturing to the mob at Max’s back.

“We’ve got a couple possible theories but really none are good.” The curly haired kid began, pushing past Max into the room. “Do you feel any signs of possession? Or Now Memories you shouldn’t have access to?”

Billy furrowed his eyebrows looking at the kid like he was talking Swedish.

“Harrington, what the hell is this kid saying?” Billy asked looking warily from the kid to Steve.

“Dustin’s asking if you feel like yourself, or if anything feels… _off_.” Steve hesitated thinking about it.

He turned back to the kid. Dustin, he’d heard that name from Max here and there.

“Max, you have the most experience with the subject- I mean Billy, any sign of uncharacteristic like behavior?” Dustin asked turning to her. Max’s eyes went wide looking from Billy to him as she gave a graceless shrug.

“What the hell are Now Memories?” Billy groaned redirecting the conversation.

“It’s like you can see what’s happening somewhere else, or to someone else like a memory-except it’s happening right now.” The skinny kid with the big frightened eyes offered from the hallway.

“Like clairvoyance?” Billy offered, the kid responded with hesitant iffy nod. “Nah, all I got is the stupid shit in front of me.”

“That makes room for theory two.” The dark-haired boy cut in.

“That one has too many variables and possible outcomes-” Sinclair blurted, eyes darting warily at Billy, to make sure he hadn’t moved.

“Yeah, exactly-!”

The two devolved into jumbled bickering before they were all talking at and over one another, Billy cringed the back of his head throbbing anew.

“Hey! Settle it down!” Steve called, his voice booming over the middle schoolers, restoring some order.

Billy glanced at Steve biting back the thank you and instead asked what theory two entailed.

“Well,” The dark-haired kid began. “No one’s been bit before.”

He peeked at Steve, one arm crossed over his middle, thumbnail at the mercy of his teeth, expression concentrated on something on the ground, knee bobbing anxiously.

“You’re the first.” Sinclair proclaimed. “Anyone attacked or taken to the Upside Down’s never survived before.”

Billy listened, the anxiousness had eased a bit, but he could feel it prickling on the back of his neck.

“We don’t know what a bite means for a human.” Dustin added. “We don’t know if it could kill you.”

“Or turn you into a zombie.” The dark-haired kid added, eyes bright with a frightening level of interest. “Or! A Demogorgon-human hybrid.”

“Mike!” Max snapped shoving him back, meeting his eyes. “You could get sick.”

Billy looked at her, for as much as they screamed or avoided each other, or how many times she rolled her eyes. He could see the worry in her clear blue eyes, the pinch of her eyebrows. She averted her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to muffle her worry, like it should be a secret. He dropped his head, eyes on his boots, all of it sounded fucking nuts.

“Or be completely fine.” Steve called, a small smile tugged on his lips before he turned his smirking face up at him. Blind optimism was not a trait he would have attributed to Steve Harrington, but if the shoe fit. “Like they said, we don’t know.”

“So then, I’m your guinea pig?” Billy asked eyes sharp, voice threateningly sweet, Steve held his gaze.

“No. Nothing like that, never mind what the little shits say.” Steve replied eyeing the kids like a frustrated mom. “But, this is the deal: we’re all we've got. The monsters are only one of the dangers.”

Billy raised an intrigued eyebrow.

“Shit Harrington, you got the FEDs after you too?” Billy snarked. Steve didn’t reply but just looked over at the kids, Billy followed his gaze.

“Not the FBI, but-” Sinclair began cautiously when Mike’s elbow jabbed his rib sharply.

“Does he _really_ need to know that too!?” Mike snapped.

“At least we didn’t tell him about El-” Dustin sighed, only to get a death glare from Mike.

“Alright!” Steve called before a brawl could break out in the cramped room. “Take it outside! Your subject needs to rest.”

With that Steve ushered them out of the room and closed the door behind them again, in the quiet room he stood in front of the door; like he was deciding whether he should leave too.

Billy sighed exasperated falling back on the noisy bed, he closed his eyes and just lay in the near silence. None, not one fucking thing made the least bit of sense. This was fucking Hawkins Indiana, not Roswell.

He pressed his thumbs into his temples, the pressure tight against his skull.

“You alright?” Steve called, his voice sounded small and far away in the tiny room.

“Fucking golden, Harrington, you?”

There was no smartass reply, no reply at all.

Billy opened his eyes and lifted his head off the bed. Steve was there, quiet again, thumbnail mauled between his teeth.

“What’s got you in a knot Harrington?” Billy called sitting up, Steve didn’t move or respond, eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. “Steve!”

Steve shook his head suddenly and hissed, sucking on his damaged thumbnail before looking at Billy. Eyes glassy, from staring too long.

Steve swallowed, and clenched his thumb in a fist as he dropped his hand to his side turning to face him head on.

“What’s your deal Harrington? I’m the one who got bitten by the alien-demo-something-or-other, but you look like someone stepped on your Izod’s.”

“I’m sorry.” Steve blurted out.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Billy.” Steve repeated, eyes looked like they were on the verge of tears.


	3. Chapter 3

“What the hell are you apologizing for Harrington?” Billy asked, face flashing between a smile, confusion, and irritation. He clenched and unclenched his fist at his side, trying to keep the flames in his lungs at bay.

Steve’s whole body seemed to shake anxious as he gnawed on his thumb again.

“That,” Steve pointed a shaky hand at his arm. “If I’d been faster, I might’ve stopped it before it got you.”

Billy took in a long deep breath, the irritated nervous feeling roiling in his chest eased, like a receding wave.

“You-?” Billy stopped short, unable to say the rest, to ask if Steve had saved him. Steve nodded.

Billy exhaled deeply, he didn’t like the idea of being saved. No one _saved_ him.

“These things have attacked before?” He asked, Steve looked up at him and nodded. “But you killed it?”

“Yeah, we’ve been pretty good at dealing with them. We thought we got them all but-”

“What exactly is the situation here?”

“Ugh,” Steve groaned. “I’ll give you the short version: all sorts of crazy, dangerous shit has gone down in Hawkins since last year.”

“Some kind of corporate chemical spill or some shit?” Billy asked digging his cigarettes from his pocket; the ratty pack had just one left. He looked down at his arm it moved fine. The holes covering his arms like a fishnet looked like they should hurt a lot.

“Some shit,” Steve replied. “The government.”

Billy raised his eyebrow as he stuck the cigarette between his lips, he tucked the pack back into his pocket as he dug for the lighter.

“Cops? hospitals? Local governing body?” Billy asked around his cigarette.

“We try to not involve… others, as much as possible.” Steve explained. “Hopper at least, is in on it, helps keep things quiet.”

Billy nodded slowly, the lighter flicked on and he lit the cigarette with a badly needed inhale.

“We’re not supposed to talk about it…” Steve confessed.

“But here we are.” Billy exhaled a puff of smoke, Steve nodded, eyes dropping to the lit cigarette.

“Yeah,” Steve replied licking his lips. “Because you’re a part of it now.”

Billy pulled another deep drag from the cigarette and offered it up to Steve.

Steve hesitantly looked at the cigarette and then at him. Billy urged it over to him and Steve plucked it from Billy’s fingers. Flicking the ash into an open pop can on the nightstand and taking a deep, desperate drag.

It was quiet between them for as long as it took them to smoke the lone cigarette to the flitter.

Billy was surprised, not because he was in some strange house with Steve Harrington and some brats. He was surprised, because he wasn’t angry. He was always angry, like a fresh bruise all over his body, sometimes the tiniest thing could set him off.

But in the tiny room with Steve’s big worried brown eyes on him. He didn’t really feel any of the anger, it felt like a weird mellow high. Maybe it was the bite, maybe he was still a little drunk from earlier.

“So, aliens?” Billy called finally, shoving the butt into the pop can.

Steve gave a half laugh; a small smile softened the worry in his eyes.

“Honestly? Maybe?” Steve admitted. “The brats call them _interdimensional monsters_.”

 Billy nodded slowly pulling the sleeve back over his right arm, the punctures wrapped around his whole forearm.

“That really doesn’t hurt?” Steve asked voice tight, eyebrows pinched again.

“No, doesn’t even itch.”

“It _looks_ painful.” Steve replied.

“That why you look so bent outta shape?” Billy asked with a small smirk.

Steve didn’t return the smile, his whole body seemed to stiffen.

“The lab is _supposed_ to be closed.” Steve replied in a growl. “It was _supposed_ to be over.”

Billy watched him, intrigued. There was a furious edge to his words, a sharpness in his usually warm brown eyes. He’d never actually seen Steve Harrington angry, _really_ angry.

“Somehow, some of those _things_ are still out there. It was just a stupid hunch, I didn’t take it seriously.” Steve snarled, he turned his fiery gaze to Billy; he felt a bolt shoot down his spine and he sat up straighter. “You- What the hell were you doing out in that junkyard?”

Billy grinned, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He wanted nothing more than to add gasoline to Steve’s fire.

“What’s it to you?”

“What sane person-” Steve stopped at the sight of the wide grin on Billy’s face, arrogantly leaning back, realizing Billy was toying with him.

Steve huffed, and he knew; Steve had what he didn’t, a way to douse the flames. To kill the anger before he did something stupid, dangerous, or snuffed it out with pain.

“I like it there.” Billy answered.

Steve faltered the annoyance faded from his face.

Billy let his own smile slip from his lips, his eyes drifting over the edge of the injury under his sleeve.

“What does this mean for me?” Billy asked tone low, raising his arm.

Steve swallowed and fixed his eyes on him.

“I don’t know man,” He sighed. “That you don’t feel any pain, doesn’t seem like a good sign.”

Billy nodded slowly. The kids talked about possession, mutation, zombification, or being sick. Being ok seemed like a long shot, were these his last few hours? Here in this room? He looked up at Steve.

“Is there someone you wanna see? Or talk to?” Steve offered cautiously. “Your dad? Or-”

Billy scoffed loudly and threw himself back on the bed noisily.

“Nah, guess here’s as good a place as any to die.”

“You’re not going to die.” Steve huffed moving to the door.

“Where are you going?” Billy asked picking his head off the pillow.

“I’m going to check on the kids, you need anything?”

“Beer?” Billy asked with a grin. “Last request and all,”

Steve shook his head opening the door.

“Mrs. Byers would notice, I’ll get you a coke.” Steve replied leaving the room.

The room was quiet, his eyes connecting the dim, glow-in-the-dark-stars on the ceiling. He closed his eyes, remembering.

_The biting chill of the early evening as he sat on the back of the Camaro, the dull ache of his ribs from last week; the ache and cold dulled by the feeling of the whiskey hot in his belly._

_It was March, but this damn place seemed unable to thaw. The ground still froze overnight. He didn’t remember how long he’d been out there; long enough for the sun to go down and the moon to crest like a dark dawn. Long enough to see his breath in the chill; to let the elements become a possible danger._

_It was his whiskey addled brain, that had led him to follow the noise. Alone, armed only with a near empty bottle of Jack, towards the woods. The headlights of the Camaro cast long, twisted shadows in his swimming vision._

_He thought it was a dog, it looked like it; skinny and hunched over, scared._

_But he knew it wasn’t when it rushed at him, he stumbled back, cursing. Its mouth opened like a flower lined with teeth. Reflexively he struck it with the bottle and they reeled away from each other; Billy staggered back, disoriented, trying to get himself back upright, trying to run._

_The thing lunged again, he’d raised his arms; he could’ve sworn it got him-_ thinking back on it maybe it had. _It jumped back, almost like a cat playing with its catch. Billy fell on his back hard, his head hitting the semi-frozen ground, his vision flickering._

_He remembered someone, Steve stepping up, moving past him, what looked like a bat in his hand gripped tight. Beams of light and sounds zipping above and around him, small hands grabbing at him and dragging him. The hard thwack of a bat hitting something fleshy, and a loud piercing screech._

“The kids drank all the cokes, so-” Steve remarked stepping in and stopping suddenly, thinking Billy had fallen asleep.

Billy didn’t move, he lay still and quiet pretending to be asleep. He was going to wait, pretend to be asleep and then scare the shit out of him, it’d be hilarious to see Harrington jump.

“Billy?” Steve called voice hushed as he stepped towards the bed, he heard his feet shuffle on the discolored carpet, deciding whether to approach or leave the room.

Billy struggled to hold his breath and look dead, well, asleep.

He just had to wait for Harrington to be close enough. He heard an aluminum can tap on the nightstand, just a little longer.

He hadn’t expected how warm and gentle Steve’s fingers felt against his cheek. Billy’s breath escaped him, and he heard him sigh, relieved. Steve’s fingers moved, trailing over his lip right under his nose, Billy exhaled against his fingers, Steve’s fingers twitched but he didn’t take them back. He felt them move so soft and warm over his lips.

Billy felt his heartbeat quicken. It was going too long, but he didn’t want to break it. He had to break it. He groaned and stirred slowly. Steve took his hand back quickly, just as Billy pretended to groggily open his eyes.

“Harrington?” Billy called making his voice sound gravely.

“Yeah,” Steve cleared his throat, head down, back against the dresser. “I uh, I got you a-”

He coughed covering his face with his hand as he motioned towards the beer on the nightstand.

Billy grinned wide like a Cheshire cat.

“Well look at that?” Billy perked, sitting up as he grabbed for the beer can.

“Thought you said, she’d notice?” Billy asked popping the tab.

“She’ll notice, but I think given the situation she’ll forgive me.”

That sounded way too nice, she’d probably bitch him out later; but, whatever, he wasn’t planning on sticking around long enough.

He took a long gulp of the cheap beer, ignoring the dry bitter taste; he drank until the can was empty and crushed it in his hand.

Steve rolled his eyes, unimpressed.

“So you run a nerd monster patrol?” Billy asked.

“No! Kinda...” Steve grumbled. “There weren’t supposed to be any monsters to hunt.”

“So what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Steve replied with a heavy sigh crossing his arms. “I usually don’t have a clue about _why_ anythings happening. I drive the car, watch the kids, and sometimes kill Demogorgon’s with a bat.”

Billy snickered, when suddenly a thought dawned on him.

“Harrington, where’s my car?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for anyone who'd been waiting for the next chapter, I hadn't intended to take so long.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the update took longer than I had wanted it to. >__<  
> The very important question of where Billy's car is is answered.

Steve stared at him, his mouth falling agape; he stammered, opening and closing his mouth a few times like a confused goldfish.

“Where. Is. My. Car.” Billy asked again, enunciating every word as he leaned forward. Irritation prickling up his spine.

The many expressions that flashed across Harrington’s face told it all.

“Here.” He replied finally.

“How did it **get** here?”

“Do you really want to know?” Steve asked. Billy’s eyes narrowed.

He was sure he wouldn’t like the answer, whatever it was.

Steve sucked in a breath.

“It’s safe.” Steve offered. “You know, for a 13-year-old, she’s actually a pretty good driver.”

Billy lurched forward immediately rising to his feet, Steve threw himself in his path, arms up, pleadingly. Steve’s eyes dropped to his feet, they were steady. Billy was steady, solid, menacing.

Billy felt an instant Déjà vu, what was it about Steve Harrington, that had him throwing himself in his way again?

“Hey, hey, hold on.” Steve urged. “She was the only one in the Camaro, and I made her drive 20 the whole way.”

Billy eyed him, with a wild furious annoyance. His skin felt too tight under the big brown eyes that watched him, there was caution in them but not fear; Steve wasn’t afraid of him.

He lifted a finger to Steve’s face, to say something. When the door flew open behind Steve.

Max eyed them suspiciously, neither moved.

“There are lights coming up the driveway.” She informed. Steve nodded, without taking his eyes off Billy.

Max stood in the doorway, deliberating whether or not she needed to intervene.

“You good Steve?” She asked eyeing Billy.

“We’re good here Max, get the numbnuts to tidy up.” Steve called over his shoulder, eyes still locked on Billy’s.

A smile cracked across his face.

“You heard the man,” Billy mocked, her eyes narrowed at him, before she turned on her heel, a swish of red hair and the door slammed shut behind her.

Billy eyed him as he conscientiously, drew his anger back and tucked it away inside. He shut his eyes tight. This feeling wasn’t anger, not his usual kind. Yes, he was very annoyed. He clenched his fists, breaking something would help but- he didn’t want to, _want_ to break anything. He exhaled deeply through his nose, once, then twice. Then let out a deep exhale. Steve stood at the open door watching him very intently, as though he was reexamining something.

“What?” Billy barked, that annoyance still loose enough to snap like a rubber band.

“Nothing,” Steve shrugged and headed into the living room.

Billy stood alone in the room, his chest tight. His breathing a little uneven, he felt hot all over. Anger, was as familiar a taste as blood to him, bitter and sharp. What’d he’d felt when he stared down Steve, was different; somehow more unsettling. Trying to stay in control was like trying to walk on thin ice, but he could only do it one step at a time. He looked down at the crushed beer can. He wanted to be in control, he didn’t want to be like _him_.

“Get out here Hargrove!” Steve called.

“Keep your shirt on Harrington!” Billy yelled back. If he was waiting for an invitation, that was probably it.

He ran his hands through his curls and rolled his stiff shoulders, readying himself for whatever more this night had in store.

* * *

 

The rest of it was a bit of a noisy blur, the kids swarming everywhere chattering excitedly. Getting home early, from her shift at the convenience store. Mrs. Byers greeted each of them, the fatigue evident on her face but invisible to the kids. Billy watched quietly from the wings back by the hallway, out of the way; or so he thought.

Somehow, she seemed to spot him right away, Steve casually introduced him as he slipped off to reign in the kids and get the first aid kit from the kitchen.

Mrs. Byers was a small thin woman, with a loving look of exhaustion on her face. She sat him down on the worn-out sofa as she inspected his arm.

The brats hovered around the living room, as Mrs. Byers’ cleaned his arm with hydrogen peroxide.

Billy watched the liquid hiss and bubble white in each little wound, but he felt nothing. Mrs. Beyer’s kept her eyes down as she continued. He found it odd that she didn’t react, as though she were treating a scraped knee or something equally mundane.

Steve rejoined them, sitting on the arm of the sofa next to him as he recounted the events. She worked attentively, fingers thin and comfortably gentle in that mother’s way. Billy stayed quiet, observing their comfortable familiarity. Even though Steve seemed wary and on edge at his wing, he seemed at home. Max on the other hand looked completely comfortable, happy, and safe.

Billy felt his stomach clench.

This place was something so completely different, this place _felt_ like home.

Mrs. Byers sighed, the crease of concentration easing as she straightened up.

“Were you able to get a hold of Hop?” She asked, worried eyes glancing up at Steve.

“No,” Steve replied. “He’s on duty with Callahan. Left him a message though.”

“The boys? And Max?” She asked glancing towards the kids who’d gathered in the kitchen.

“Decoy Plan Delta worked without a hitch!” Dustin proclaimed.

“As far as we know…” Mike grumbled.

“Billy, right?” Mrs. Byers called getting his attention. Billy looked at her. “Are you hungry dear?”

Billy looked at Steve.

“No ma’am, I’m good.”

“Are you sure? I’m going to make something for the kids.”

“I’m alright,” He insisted, he motioned to his arm. “Thank you.”

She smiled wearily, but kindly as she patted his knee, and tucked the first aid box under her arm.

Billy leaned towards Steve.

“She doesn’t know about me?” Billy asked in a hushed voice, flexing his arm, the bandage was just right.

Steve shrugged. Billy frowned.

“Bigger fish Hargrove.”

After a PB & J sandwich Mrs. Byers settled the mob and ordered them to wash up and settle down for lights out in ten. Billy thought about making his exit then; but opted to hang back a bit. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when she insisted they both stay over and leave after pancakes tomorrow morning.

Billy put up a bit of a fuss; but ended up looking to Steve and insisting he would only stay if it wasn’t an imposition on her. Billy could hear Steve choke back a laugh as he called him back towards the hallway.

“You can take Jonathan’s bed, it’s comfortable enough and he won’t be back till about dawn.” Steve offered stopping in the hall and motioning him to go ahead.

“You’re pretty chummy with Byers, You-”

“No.” Steve voice cut him off like a knife, brown eyes hard. “Don’t even finish that thought.”

Billy turned over his shoulder, in the weak lamp light his brown eyes took on a dangerous sharpness that made his heart clench in his chest.

Billy licked his lips, something about ruffling his feathers was exciting. He laughed and backed off with a shrug. He couldn’t help but want to pull on that thread.

“He’s a friend.” Steve called to his back. “Not that you’d know that, seeing as you haven’t got any.”

“I’ve got friends,”

“Oh yeah? What Tommy? Where was he? Didn’t see him out in that junkyard with you.”

Billy's lip twitched as he let himself fall into the bed face first, but he didn’t reply.

Steve was quiet, and the moment stretched long, with only the sounds of the kids drifting through the open door.

“I crash here a bit, when I…” He began only to trail off.

Billy turned his head and peeked at him.

“Babysit?” Billy offered smiling mockingly.

Steve fidgeted, Billy’s smile grew, and he rolled on to his side to get a good look at it: Steve was embarrassed.

“It’s commendable.” Billy grinned. “Lame as fuck, but-”

He stopped himself. He wasn’t gonna say another word. Not that he thought it was a stupidly nice thing to do. Seriously? Without getting paid spending time with little butts like Max, for fun? Or protecting them from interdimensional monsters. It made something warm crack across his ribs. _Fucking boy scout_.

“Bathrooms the next door over.” Steve explained, a silhouette standing in the doorway. “If you need anything, cram it. I’m not your maid.”

Billy laughed, and was surprised to see what looked like a smile on Steve's face.

“I though you were my nurse?” He smirked.

“Mrs. Byers fixed it, I think you’ll be alright.”

Billy felt uneasy, he wasn’t afraid to be left alone. Uncomfortable, anxious. Not scared, not at all. But he didn’t want to be alone. He chewed on his bottom lip.

“No ones going to keep an eye on me?” Billy asked eyes on the well-worn carpet beneath Steve's feet. “What if I mutate and try to eat everyone?”

Steve shook his head as he turned to leave.

“Stay,” Billy croaked. “Last request and all.”

Steve stopped, he sounded wounded. So unlike the Billy Hargrove he was used to seeing with the cocky smirk and overbearing- bordering on obnoxious- personality. He turned back to face him.

“Are you really going to keep using that?” He asked his eyes darting around the shape of him. He seemed awfully small in that moment.

“Would you stay if I asked?” Billy asked voice too raw, too honest. He was glad for the lack of light in the room.

Steve looked straight at him through the darkness.

“Yes.” Steve replied in a quiet voice.

Billy swallowed back his nerves and nodded weakly.

Steve sighed deeply and closed the door to the room, he strode back into the room lowering himself onto the floor, his back against the bed facing the door.

“I’ll be here.” Steve reassured, resting his arms on his knees.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did Billy make it through the night?
> 
> *SPOILER* yes he did. Also, Billy and Steve are developing a friendship.

Sleep broke slow, his brain coming to first. To the feel of a strange bed; a sweet smell drifting into his lungs with each slow breath.

He cracked an eye open as he stretched across the bed. His limbs tangled in the covers. His hand hit something soft and his fingers sunk into the soft strands. He smiled, it felt like a shaggy dog a buddy had back in Cali. He turned his head, slumped against the bed was Steve Harrington’s head. He moved his fingers and Steve shifted into his touch.

His heart fluttered in his chest and the last flecks of sleep fell away. He twirled the soft caramel colored strands between his fingers. He swallowed nervously, a soft warmth bloomed through him and in that space, that warm moment he felt something, unlike anything in a long time.

Beautiful. It was beautiful. Steve was beautiful.

Steve stirred, Billy’s heart jumped, and he whacked him weakly.

Steve hissed sleepily grabbing at his head.

“What the hell!” Steve grumbled, shifting to face Billy on the bed as he smoothed his hair down. Billy grinned wide at him, his heartbeat unsteady under his ribs.

“Sorry Harrington,” He smirked rolling on to his side. “I thought you were a dog.”

Steve scrunched his eyes shut and pulled himself to his feet lowering himself into the bed, Billy had to scoot out of the way as Steve sat in the bed, his back against the wall.

“Looks like you’re still alive, how’s the arm?”

Billy raised his bandaged arm, it moved fine, he moved each finger to check his fine motor skills. All normal.

“Looks alright.” Billy replied looking up at Steve.

“Good.” Steve pulled himself back to his feet, scrubbing his tired face.

Billy pulled the tangled covers off and sat up.

“I’m gonna…” Steve trailed off motioning down the hall, Billy nodded and then he was alone in the room.

Billy looked around the lived-in room, the _Evil Dead_ poster, the record player and the collection of vinyl’s; Johnathan’s room. It was like looking _inside_ someone, a different perspective. He really didn’t know the first thing about Johnathan Byers…

The golden sunlight poured through the ratty curtains.

He ran his hands through his own bed-mussed curls and pulled himself to the edge of the bed.

It was time to get gone. He glanced down at his arm.

Damaged. But what was one more piece in a disaster of jagged, broken, bent pieces?

 He pulled himself up, making sure he didn’t leave anything behind.

But his feet didn’t want to move, as though they were cemented to the floor.

None of this could last, his mind chided. Not Mrs. Byers’ kindness, not the kid’s interest, especially not Steve’s concern. He didn’t want to be there when it changed.

He **needed** to leave. Things weren’t really okay with them. They’d made an exception, but he wasn’t welcome. There was no way he could be…

Acting out of fear and frustration didn’t justify what he’d done in the Byer’s home six months ago.

There was no excusing his behavior, no matter how much time passed.

He clenched his jaw and gripped his right arm, it hurt, down in the bone. An old hurt, but not forgotten. He’d had to wear that damn cast for 3 weeks. 3 weeks to memorize the consequences for making a friend, his father hadn’t agreed with.

His breathing quicken, as if to fan the flames. His father had never raised a hand to Maxine or Susan, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t. He’d done it to his mom. He remembered how she’d endured it, tried to keep him safe; she was the strongest person he’d ever known.

He rubbed his temple, after a moment too long letting that anger kindle, he tamped it down. Knowing those embers lived, undying in his chest; he hastily left the room.

He made his way through the sleeping house, feeling like there was a bomb strapped to his chest. The first rays of sunlight poured through the windows. Johnathan Byers, lay asleep, half dangling off the couch, his arm slung over his eyes to ward off the sunlight.

“Good morning Billy.” Mrs. Byers called from the kitchen. Billy stopped like he’d been caught and jammed his clenched fists in his pockets.

“Good morning Mrs. Byers,” Billy replied forced-cheerfully.

“You’re not trying to sneak off are you?” She asked with a small smile as she turned to face him.

Billy swallowed nervously, and gave as sweetest a smile he could muster. Putting on the charm was easy.

“Just trying to get out of your hair ma’am, don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

“You’re no trouble at all,” she replied, so immediately that it knocked the smile right off his face. He stared at her a second before he composed himself.

“Now come on over and help me finish these up, do you like blue berries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?” She asked turning back towards the stove to flip the pancake.

Billy hesitated glancing at the door. The feeling suddenly doused, whatever had been simmering in his chest was silent but warm.

“Um…” He thought. It’d been so long since someone had asked such an ordinary question. “Blue berries.”

Mrs. Byers smiled over her shoulder.

“Good boy,” She winked at him. “Come on and mix up some more batter.”

Billy smiled and nodded joining her in the kitchen.

* * *

 

Steve turned off the squeaky faucet and dried his hands on the faded yellow hand towel. He gave himself a once over. Eyes a little bleary from sleep, tired but awake. He examined his hair and fiddled with it, trying to reign it in; mussed up from sleep, some from Billy.

He inhaled deeply and ducked his head, hands clutching the sink.

Just waking up, feeling gentle fingers in his hair; it’d felt good. It was nice waking up to such a tender touch… He’d never shared a morning with anyone like that. But, ugh, it wasn’t like that.

He looked at himself in the mirror again, it wasn’t like that, but it _felt_ like that. And realizing that made his heart hurt.

“Get a hold of yourself Harrington,” He scolded his reflection, slapping his cheek, wincing at the slight sting.

He opened the door and stopped short almost crashing into Lucas.

Before he could say anything Lucas put a finger to his lips. He motioned to him, and then to the front of the house.

Steve looked at him confused.

Lucas repeated the motions, he was still confused as Lucas went on to add more; Lucas put his finger to his eye, then grabbed his right hand with his left hand, and then motioned back to himself. Finally making a circle with his thumb and index finger.

Steve stared at him.

“What?”

Lucas’ face scrunched up with frustration as released and exasperated breath.

“Quiet. You. Go to Kitchen. Locate. Enemy. Find me. OK?” Lucas hissed annoyed.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Steve asked still perplexed.

Exasperated Lucas rolled his eyes and returned to the room without another word.

Steve sighed dropping his hands from his hips, as he gave up and headed to the kitchen.

Steve couldn't help but stare, mouth hanging open. Billy frinkin' Hargrove could actually be charming? A sweet smile lit up his face, making him look younger, even boyish; as he helped Mrs. Byers in the kitchen. Billy spied him, and his eyes took on a wicked glint.

He felt his cheeks burn, embarrassed for getting caught staring.

He couldn’t stay in the kitchen. He spun on his heels and went to report to the brats.

"Hey, numbnuts," Steve called rapping on the door. "Time to wake up."

The door suddenly opened a crack and Dustin's face poked out.

 "Get in quick!" He yelped, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him into the room. He stumbled in like a disjointed marionette.

"Geez! What's the deal? " Steve hissed fixing his coat as Mike closed the door behind him.

"There's a possibility we didn't consider." Lucas announced sitting on the bed cross-legged.

"That Billy could be a spy." Mike added coldly leaning against the door.

"No way," He replied, but really he had the least experience amongst them. He looked at the ground worrying his bottom lip, hands on his hips. It could be, he wouldn't be able to tell. Steve looked to the only person who could know for sure, Will. He sat straddling his desk chair, chin on the back rest melancholy brown eyes troubled. 

"Do you think he's a spy?" 

Will was quiet.

"I really don't know...." Will offered quietly.

"No, he isn't." Max's voice called from behind him. "If he was, why didn't they attack last night?"

"He could be bidding his time." Lucas proffered. "I mean, a spy's primary objective is to infiltrate, gain the party's trust, and collect information for the other side."

Max shot him a scalding glare, but Lucas gave a warning look in return.

"I don't think he's a spy." Max snapped again crossing her arms.

"Well you said it, we just don't trust him." Steve offered.

"Not so fast," Mike cut in, taking the spot next to Dustin. "Someone still needs to keep an eye on the dipstick."

Steve nodded, realizing Mike's eyes were set, determinately on him.

"Wait," Steve choked. "You mean me!?"

"Well which one of _us_ goes to high school?" Dustin asked voice dripping with sarcasm. Steve looked at each of their faces as if it were completely obvious. 

He exhaled deeply.

"Steve," Billy's voice called from the other side of the door. In that moment his heart seemed to leap out of his chest. "What's the deal? Foods up."

"Going!" Mike called as the other's moved to the door; meeting adjourned. Mike stopped in front of him, and glanced up at him.

"Help us, Steve Harrington. You're our only hope." 

Steve's face twisted amused and annoyed.

"That's! That's from..." Steve groaned unable to remember the name of the film as he followed after the kids.

"Don't think about it too hard pretty boy." Billy teased, Steve jumped, Billy was there leaned up against the wall arms crossed waiting for him.

"I'm gonna take off." Billy murmured, pulling himself off the wall.

"You don't need to tell me." Steve replied, unnecessarily nervous. Afraid to meet his eyes.

"I know. But I figured you probably have my keys."

Steve's eyes went wide a second and he jammed his hand in his left pocket. Producing the keys.

“See ya, at school?” Steve asked handing them over.

“Yeah whatever,” Billy shrugged taking his keys.

 “Hey,” Steve called reaching out for him, but stopping his hand before he could touch him. Billy looked over his shoulder at him.

Steve stopped glancing back inside the room, his eyes darting around and settling on a sketch pad on the desk.

He snatched a pencil from a nearby cup and jotted something down in a crazy quick scrawl, before he tore the page out.

He handed the scarp of paper over to him. Billy looked at it before he turned to take it.

He looked at the quick, but clear digits on the scrap.

“It’s my number,” Steve explained.

Billy raised an eyebrow as he looked up at him again, he was antsy but overall steady.

“Call me.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth quirked up and he dropped his head down, he couldn’t help but grin. It didn’t feel like obligation, nor an offer made out of pity: a request.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?” Billy asked waving the paper at him.

Steve made a sour face and gave a full shoulder shrug.

Billy smiled nodding as he folded the paper neatly and slipped it into his breast pocket.

“Get Max home safe, Harrington.” Billy murmured, the smile on his face half-hearted.

“Yeah, Sure.” He replied as he watched Billy leave.

* * *

 

He said a quick goodbye to Mrs. Byers, the kids stopped eating to watch him leave.

Outside the morning air was sharp as a knife, crisp, cool and blinding. He squinted, his Camaro parked slightly a skew next to Steve’s Beamer.

He strode easily off the steps, the gravel crunching under his boot.

He felt strangely well, like he’d gotten a great night’s rest. Despite the morning chill he felt warm. He settled into the drivers seat, scooting it back to accommodate his legs; he turned the engine over and it roared into life. He caught his reflection in the rearview mirror.

He knew what was coming. The kids seemed to have some sort of plan, Max probably had a cover story for where she’d spent the night.

He didn’t. He’d stayed out of the house all night. Without permission. It didn’t matter where he was or with who…

That was impermissible.

He adjusted the mirror and cranked up the music.

He looked at the house. It’d be better if he faced is father first, took whatever the old man was going to dish out. He didn’t want Max to see.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guys build some trust, and there is a unique development.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a long update, there is a lot of feels here :3

Steve stared at the books in his locker.

The rest of the weekend had been uneventful, as close to normal as they knew anymore.

He chewed on his thumbnail. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting when he’d given Billy his number. But not hearing from him at all, made him anxious.

He closed his locker and turned, spotting a familiar mop of unruly blond hair. He felt his heart leap up into his throat.

He stopped realizing there were some fresh bruises on his face. He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. Who was he getting mixed up with now? Honestly, he felt bad for the other guy; Billy’s fists were no joke.

* * *

 

"Who'd you piss off this time?" Steve asked with a grin leaning against the bay of lockers.

Billy eyed him, he figured he might get asked. Most of the time the old man didn't leave bruises where you could see them, but every now and then he'd slip up. He had a million excuses ready to go, but the truth was, it'd been a long time since anyone bothered to ask.

"My old man," He sighed closing his locker. Steve laughed, but then it fell away so suddenly; he must have seen the truth of it.

"Are you serious?" He hissed, leaning in, his dark eyes scanning the rest of his face, finding the split on his bottom lip and the discolored skin on his temple, just under a curl, where his father had slammed his head against the wall. He raised his hand to touch, but just as suddenly stopped himself. His earthy brown eyes locked on his. He looked angry, almost hurt, why would he be? 

 "Why?!"

Billy shrugged looking at the collar of Steve's jacket unable to meet those soulful brown eyes.

“Does it matter?”

Steve looked at him brows furrowed, agitated. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he held back.

Billy didn’t wait for him to process a fake congenial response, instead he shouldered past him, heading to class.

* * *

 

The day had coasted by uneventful at best. Same shit different day kind of feel.

But something felt off, through the whole day, like a picture that was just a little off center.

Billy felt it again the moment he made it out of the front doors, past the throngs of teenagers that split like the red sea in front of him.

Tommy had done his duty, passing along some bullshit story to explain the bruises, since he hadn’t told him anything.

It felt like something was coming, like the tension before a storm.

It wasn't something tangible, or observable. Just something hanging in the air. Almost like a scent, so primal it didn't have words. kicking up a racket in the lizard part of his brain.

Static that rode over his skin, making him feel raw.

Something was coming.

The dark clouds cast across the sky like a grey curtain being drawn.

To top off his shitty day, it was going to rain.

He turned his collar up and shoved his hands into his pockets drawing the denim jacket tighter around him, the wind clawing at him through the thin layers.

He exhaled deeply through his nose, part of his punishment was losing the Camaro for the whole fucking week. He sneered at the student parking lot, making his way towards the road.

He wasn’t taking the fucking bus.

He’d only just made it to the road when the rain started fast, a few droplets and then a downpour like the sky had cracked open. His jacket was soaked, the water chilling against his skin. His hair plastered against his head.

The car pulled up at a crawl, he wasn’t in the mood for any company.

He glared, recognizing the burgundy front panel of the Beamer.

“Hey!” Steve yelled as he rolled the window down with the push of a button. He ignored him and kept walking.

“Hargrove! What the hell man?” He yelled as he followed him along the solitary road. “It’s pouring!”

He didn’t glance at him, and they kept on, almost side by side.

“Billy,” Steve called stopping the car. “Come on, get in the car.”

Billy stopped hesitating, reluctantly he turned and pulled the door open climbing inside without another word. Steve rolled up the window, shifted gears and started on the road again.

He glanced at him and fiddled with some buttons, and Billy felt the heat come on, hot air surging from the vents in the dash.

Steve didn’t say anything as he kept driving. Billy stared out the windshield watching the wipers cut across the drops sending rivulets of rain across the top of the glass.

Steve glanced at him.

“Spit it out.” Billy growled, eyes watching the rain as it pattered against the exterior.

“Why are you going back there?”

Billy smiled.

“Why are you?”

Steve was quiet, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

He had a reason. He didn’t want to go to the house, and there was no where else for him to go. Steve on the other hand, was a completely different story.

“Not babysitting today?” Billy smirked shifting to lean against the door and watch Steve as he drove.

Steve rolled his eyes and shot him a weak glare.

“Just you.”

Billy’s smile grew and gave an understanding nod.

“What happened to your car? It wasn’t Max was it?”

Billy’s smile fell and he turned his eyes back out the windshield, the rain was sparse, the wipers dragging across the glass.

“No.”

Steve didn’t press it, switching the wipers to a slower setting.

“Arm’s alright?” He asked trying to fill the air.

Billy glanced down at his arm. He hadn’t even thought about it since he’d taken off the bandage, right before he’d entered the house.

“Yeah,”

“Shame.” Steve replied with a sigh.

Billy narrowed his eyes at him, Steve glanced over smiling.

“Hoped I’d get to see some gnarly An American Werewolf in London kinda transformation.”

“Fuck you.” He smirked with a laugh. Steve smiled as he turned off the wipers the rain nothing but a few droplets.

“What’d you do with it?”

Steve glanced at him again, shifting forward and then back. He knew what it, he meant.

“Made sure it was dead.” He replied. “Then we burned it and buried it.”

Billy nodded his fingers gliding over the slots of the heater vent in the dash.

“Smart.”

“The brat’s idea.” Steve replied with a proud smile as he pulled off the main road. The road was bumpy as they approached the abandoned lot. It wasn’t actually a junk yard, but it was a yard with clunkers that’d seen better days.

Billy didn’t remember how he’d come across it. It wasn’t that much out of the way, but enough, secluded and obstructed from the main road.

Desolate, there weren’t places like this back in California.

Steve pulled the Beamer up and shifted into park.

Billy sat in the car quiet, fingers tapping on the dashboard.

“I’ll make my way back.” He replied finally opening the door.

The air was cool, heavy with the smell of rain. He shifted in his soaked jacket tempted to strip it off now that the rain had passed. He glanced skyward the clouds grey  as he cut across the empty space towards the trees.

He heard the engine shut off, and the driver side door open and close behind him.

He didn’t spare a glance back as he crossed by the foremost trees.

Billy scanned the ground, a swath the size of a person cut in the debris towards the junkyard; he followed it in.

A few paces from where the drag marks started he found the bottle of Jack. And then another drag track.

Billy stopped spotting the mound of fresh turned up soil.

Steve came to stand behind him. Eyes fixed on the mound before them.

Billy moved towards it, squatting next to it. He felt pulled to the spot, like a magnet.

Billy closed his eyes and reached down fingers sinking into the damp soil.

It was dark for a long minute and then it was like his eyes adjusted. A new sight amongst the darkness, rippling colors, like a velvet painting. Faint colors showed things in the distance; he looked down, pale colors that only just showed his hand half buried in the soil. Beneath it a pale outline curled up and dark in the soil below; in a bed of cerulean that extended deeper into the earth, branching and dividing indefinitely into the distance like a web.

He looked up, as Steve walked around to the opposite side of the mound. He felt his breath catch.

Steve was a kaleidoscope, a world of color...

Billy swallowed hard. The closest thing he could liken it to was infrared in bad sci-fi.

“I can see.” Billy breathed, trembling.

"You can see something?" Steve asked perplexed.

Billy opened his eyes, somewhat shaken.

He nodded as he squinted, rubbing the dirt from his hands.

Steve stood, brows knotted as he looked him over.

“It was weird.” Billy shuddered focusing on Steve, ghosts of light danced across his vision.

He blinked a few times trying to will the lingering specs of color away.

Billy hesitated. The blue ribbons in the dark looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it. It made him feel uneasy.

“I don’t think it was good…”

“What did you see?” Steve pressed.

“Nah forget it,” Billy exhaled.

Steve ran his a hand through his hair.

“Billy,” He called voice pleading, Billy turned to him.

His heart hammering in his chest, his wet skin prickling. He exhaled deeply, his nose flaring as he trudged back towards the junkyard.

“Wait!” Steve called after him, he could hear his clumsy footsteps behind him.

Billy couldn’t stop. He couldn’t look at Steve, what he’d seen had been beautiful. But the feelings that tinged that beauty were terrifying.

His skin was crawling, he still felt eyes on him. There was something there, at the other end of that sight watching him back.

Danger.

His heart hammering in his chest, it felt like everything about him had been laid bare before something that had no capacity to understand any of it.

“Billy!” Steve yelled. “Tell me! We can help you!”

Billy stopped abruptly, chest heaving; feeling he couldn’t get any air in his lungs.

His mind was reeling, he’d never felt so small and powerless. There was no helping him. There was no saving him. From whatever that was.

It was just a matter of time.

The best thing he could do, is not put anyone else in danger.

Like an animal going off alone to die.

“Billy…” Steve called pleadingly, voice laced with concern.

Billy screwed his eyes shut, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Get it through your fucking skull!” Billy yelled shaking, eyes glassy. “I’m not the kind of person you want around. So stop pretending to care! Stop acting like you give a shit.”

He was something crafted by the fists of his father, to resemble a man. But all he felt was a gaping hole, lined in jagged pieces that didn’t fit against anyone.

He wore the skin, the charm, and could act like it; but he always felt more like the edge of a blade than a person, something to be used, not cared for.

He just wasn’t the type of person people cared for, so he made not caring for them his priority. If they were going to use him, to make themselves look cool, or get what they wanted he would use them right back.

But Steve fucking Harrington, didn’t fit that.

Steve stood unflinching, brown eyes watching him evenly as he closed in on him.

“I could have fucking killed you!” Billy snarled grabbing him by his shirt collar, eyes wild, desperate, searching. “I could’ve hurt that kid!”

“Yeah,” Steve replied calmly.

Billy hissed spinning on his heel trying to put some space between them.

“I can’t be around them. I can’t be around you…”

“You’re not a monster,” Steve called.

Billy spun back and closed on him, eyes ablaze.

“Are you sure about that?” Billy sneered.

Steve stood completely still, dark eyes sharp, focused on him. Billy flicked his tongue at the split on his bottom lip.

He could feel it building in his muscles, flickering in his chest, almost like his anger had its own pulse.

That’s right, Steve knew real monsters, with fangs and claws. He probably didn’t have any experience with monsters that looked like men. Monsters that deceived, devoured, and destroyed by increments.

Men like his father, men like him.

“What? I’m supposed to say I’m sorry!?” Billy roared searching his face for any hint of fear.

“It’s a start.” Steve replied.

Billy shook his head smiling bitterly, spinning around, running an unsteady hand through his moist curls, amused by his ridiculous idealism.

“He’s a kid,” Steve offered. “I think he could forgive you.”

“What about you?” Billy asked challengingly, turning back on him. “You can forgive me?”

Steve was quiet his eyes cast down at his feet, he sneered.

He felt that fire catch, and kick up fiercely in his chest. He could feel that bitterness rising up, his face twisted and he felt like his mouth was full of crushed glass.

He couldn’t stop himself, he wanted one thing: to provoke.

Break whatever this was, right now so Steve couldn’t break it later.

“You can forgive me,” He began stepping right into him so they were chest to chest. “For beating the living shit out of you in front of those brats?”

Steve was quiet.

He couldn’t get enough air, so close to him. His chest rising heavy; but in each breath, he breathed him in and it kicked the flames up higher.

He sneered, grin sharp as he ran his tongue along the sharp line of his teeth.

“I already let it go.” Steve replied voice quiet as he raised his brown eyes to meet his.

Billy stood frozen under the gaze of those brown eyes, he searched his face for the lie, the but, the catch.

But there wasn’t one.

Just resolute brown eyes, that held no deception, no manipulation.

It was too much; to stand in the sight of those eyes, it was too much.

“You-” He murmured, shaking his head as he backed away from him, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip.

He was unreal; beyond comprehension.

With his eyes closed he could almost see it. Relive that night, pulling up on the Byers home for the first time. The tangle of fear, anger, hurt, and blame roiling violently in his chest.

Then nothing but a blur of violence, yelling, the thundering of his heart almost deafening.

He raised his head, eyes still closed.

Steve was radiant, beautiful in this otherworldly vision.

He felt the fight bleed out of him, and only the bitter ache was left behind, the emptiness.

He lifted his hands, his colors visible there; muted, a bland outline barely distinguishable from the rest of the darkness.

This other sight showed what he was inside, past every defense. There was just no light left in him, nothing worth salvaging. Even if he wanted to, it seemed impossible; there was no making amends here…

“How is that enough?” Billy asked, voice soft. “How does I’m sorry fix it?”

Steve exhaled fidgeting.

“I don’t know.” Steve replied. “But- I don’t think it’s the words.”

Billy opened his eyes, Steve fidgeted under his gaze.

“I think,” He scratched nervously at the back his neck. “It’s what you do, you know?”

“What have I done to show you I’m sorry?” Billy asked curious as he approached Steve again.

Steve gave a small smile.

“Nothing.”

Billy cocked his head.

Steve fidgeted.

“It’s the things you haven’t done...” Steve looked at his confused expression and his face flushed. “You know what, never mind. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Billy’s eyes drifted to the patchy green grass beneath his feet.

“You’re trying.” Steve added. “I think you are, aren’t you?”

Billy met his eyes again, he really didn’t know if he was. But somewhere between bearing that flame and wearing those broken edges, he was tired of it. It hurt, and he was tired of it hurting alone. Tired of the empty eyes, hollow words, and shallow people.

Tired of the uncertainty that rode him ragged inside those four walls. Tired of his displaced anger, and the feeling of helplessness, that left him raw when he was outside of them.

“I don’t know what it is…” Billy sighed as he walked back to the Beamer leaning against the trunk.

Steve followed him, chewing nervously on his thumb.

“I don't know what to tell you, because I don't know what any of this is...” He began, meeting Steve’s eyes head on. “I can see something, when I close my eyes. And I don't know what I'm seeing, or what it means, if it means anything… But when I'm looking... It feels like something is looking back at me...”

Steve held his gaze, brows furrowed, pensively gnawing his thumbnail.

“You think it has something to do with having gotten bitten?”

Steve nodded stiffly.

Billy ran his hand over his face as Steve came to stand next to him.

Steve sighed.

“Listen, NEVER tell them I said this, but- the shitheads will know what to do.”

Billy gave a weak smile. He’d give them that credit. They were dweebs but they were far from stupid. Steve really seemed to believe they had a handle on the strange events happening in Hawkins.

He gave a slow nod, none of this made any sense.

“Get in the car.” Steve called smacking Billy’s leg as he moved towards the driver’s side. “We got a Dungeon Master to see.”

Billy watched him and then followed to the passenger side.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The matter of Billy's "power" is brought before the White Council.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karen Wheeler is a mom.  
> Billy is 17.  
> None of that nonsense (IMO). :P  
> That said Harringrove forever!

“The Wheeler house?” Billy asked leaning forward to get a better look at the picturesque suburban home.

Steve looked at him a little surprised.

“Yeah,” He replied killing the engine. “If the dorks are together, they’re probably here.”

“Huh,” Billy grunted easing back.

“Hey,” Steve called, Billy glanced over at him. “You can make it right. I was an ass to these dorks, probably only half as bad as you. But it’s different now, because I changed…”

 “Heartwarming.” Billy snorted, with a mock wicked grin.

Steve shook his head and swiped at his chest, Billy laughed.

“Let’s go, just follow my lead.” Steve called.

Billy stayed in the car and watched him head for the front door, the sky was still overcast making it seem later than it was.

He opened the door and strode to the front door.

It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him, he just didn’t know if he could follow in his footsteps. Steve was a good guy, no matter the bullshit that Tommy touted about the old “King Steve”. He on the other hand, he couldn’t remember ever having done a good thing for anyone.

Steve glanced back at him as they waited at the front door.

It made his heart clench in his chest, he was sure if their positions were reversed he wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for them…

“Oh! Steve,” Mrs. Wheeler replied with a pleasant smile as she drew the door open. Eyes drifting from him to Billy at his side. “Billy!”

Steve glanced over his shoulder stiffly, eyebrows raised.

“Good evening Mrs. Wheeler.” Billy grinned, all teeth and charm. “Good to see you again,”

Mrs. Wheeler gave a girlish giggle, eyes solely focused on Billy.

“Well I’m sorry to tell you boys’ Nancy’s out with the Byers boy.”

“No, I know.” Steve replied. “I’m actually here to see Mike, if that’s alright?”

She peeled her eyes off Billy, to meet Steve’s, confused.

“Mike?” She asked, making sure she’d heard him right. Glancing at Billy, he nodded. “Y-yes, of course.”

She stepped back and opened the door wide to let them in.

“He’s-”

“In the basement.” Steve smiled as he made his way towards the basement. “I know.”

She stood and watched as they made their way to the basement stairs.

“What was that?” Steve asked over his shoulder.

“What was what?” Billy asked innocently.

Steve glanced back at him.

“That _thing_ just now with Mrs. Wheeler,”

Billy grinned devilishly.

“Just being neighborly.”

Billy could just see Steve roll his eyes.

“Is there any mom in Hawkins you haven’t laid the charm on?”

“Hmm, I haven't met Mrs. Harrington yet...”

Steve's shoulders stiffened.

“Good luck with that.”

“Relax, Harrington,” Billy called with a smirk. “I'm not into housewives.”

Steve’s head bobbed as they came into the basement.

“Steve!” A joyous voice piped up from the basement. He stalled on the step, listening to the chorus of indistinguishable greetings that followed. He watched as Steve greeted the kids.

He followed after, and the temperature in the room dropped.

He glanced at the walls, avoiding their eyes, as he took the last steps into the basement in stunned silence.

Billy glanced over their faces, somewhere between shock and slack-jawed awe.

“You brought him here?” Mike hissed at Steve.

“Chill, there’s been a development.”

“He doesn’t look any different.” Dustin observed craning over to see, while still keeping his distance.

Steve turned to him, he didn’t need the vision in the darkness to see the light in him.

“Trust me,” He smiled winking at him. “You want to hear this.”

Billy shook his head, a smile tugging on his lips as he slipped towards the table, set up with a gameboard and pieces in play.

“Okay,” Lucas called. “What?”

“What?” Steve asked, looking at Lucas.

 “The thing we’d want to hear?” Lucas huffed.

“Oh, he’s got a special power.” Steve replied motioning to Billy as he leaned against the bannister.

All eyes turned to Billy, Billy glanced at each of them before he settled his sight back on Steve.

“Power?” He asked looking at him. “I’ve got a power?”

Steve shrugged.

“Is it a physical power, you know like strength or speed?” Dustin asked excitedly.

“There’s no way it could be like El’s, right?” Mike asked, looking horrified.

“Can you do stuff with your mind?” Max asked.

Billy shook his head, finding Will quietly watching.

He remembered the nickname Zombie Boy. Tommy had been too eager to spill about how he’d gone missing, been found dead, buried, and then turned up alive.

It’d sounded like the bored bullshit of some stupid little town, eager to have something to talk about.

Now, with some insight he knew; whatever had happened, was something different.

“Well what can you do?” Lucas asked voice abrasive.

“I can see, something, when my eyes are closed.” Billy explained.

“How do you mean, what do you see?” Mike asked skeptically, coming to stand across from him. Hands on the back of the chair.

“I see things, when my eyes are closed. So, without looking,” Billy tried explaining again.

 The others stood quietly, thinking about it.

“So, like an unsight?” Dustin proposed, coming to stand next to Billy, examining his face. “Sight without seeing.”

“What do you see with this unsight?” Mike asked clearly still unconvinced.

“Does it show you something about a person? Did you look at Steve?” Max asked.

Billy's eyes darted at Steve, Steve met his gaze interested to hear the answer.

“Y- yeah,” Billy replied with a slight cough, feeling his face grow warm.

“Well what did you see?” Max pressed blue eyes sparkling.

Billy swallowed, eyes on Steve.

“Uh, colors.” He replied with a pinch of his brows dropping his eyes to the gameboard. “Bright colors.”

“Does everyone look like that?” Mike asked glancing at Steve and back to him.

“I don’t think so…” Billy replied, remembering what his hands looked like.

“Well try it.” Dustin blurted.

Billy turned to Dustin, looking a little annoyed.

“Please?” Dustin added with a wide smile.

“Hey, maybe ease off-” Steve began but Billy had already closed his eyes.

“Nothing to be afraid of princess.” He smirked as he turned to Steve, indulging in the bright flickering colors, before he turned to look at the morons around the table.

Their colors were low, muted, like his; like shadows barely distinguishable from the dark.

All but one: Will Byers, shown as bright as a wild fire, colors different from Steve's but no less vivid.

He could feel the eyes on him; being watched, not by the kids, but by something cold and far away. He winced, he couldn't ignore it. It meant something, the only feeling he could clearly discern was danger.

Billy opened his eyes and the after image of the colors lingered.

“You’re not like Steve, but _he_ is.” Billy sighed nudging his head at Will.

They all looked between Steve and Will trying to figure out what they might have in common.

“Whatever this is, it goes both ways.” He glanced at Billy to make sure it was alright to continue. ”Something is watching him when he uses his unsight.”

“Alright, so you've got to not use it unless absolutely necessary.” Dustin proclaimed brimming with excitement. But scanning across their faces, there was clearly a lot of skepticism about his “power” mixed in with their general reluctance at his presence.

“There’s another thing.” Billy called. “It looked like a river, or a web sprawled out underground.”

A stillness seemed to fall over them, that doubt about what he was saying: gone.

Something about that was familiar enough that it left no doubt about the rest of it.

Mike spun on his heel and the others huddled around him instantly, heads together voices low.

Steve didn’t move, he was spaced out, focusing on something nonexistent; teeth worrying his bottom lip absently.

“That has to be the tunnels!” Dustin hissed. “He’s seen the tunnels!”

“But we torched them!” Max snapped.

“Yeah, but the tunnels didn’t go away, if they’d collapsed it might have taken a chunk of Hawkins with it.” Lucas explained. “The tunnels are still under Hawkins, unguarded…”

“Is it possible they’re using them again?” Mike asked turning to Dustin.

“Highly!” Dustin replied. “That Demo-dog we found at the junk yard, might have used them to get there. It had to have been a scout.”

Billy scratched his temple, clearly no longer a pressing matter as he moved back to where Steve was, he took a seat next to him on the last step of the stairs.

He glanced at up at him, gnawing on his lip like it’d deliver the answers to him.

“So, tunnels?” Billy asked glancing up at Steve, he didn’t hear him; he nudged him with his knee and he snapped out of it. Turning to him with peaked eyebrows. “Tunnels?”

“Shit!” Steve snapped. “Those tunnels?”

Mike gave him a blank look, head up from their huddle.

Steve looked at Billy clearly bothered.

“This… Thing from before, had these tunnels all over the place.” Steve explained. “The Demo-dogs used them to move around Hawkins.”

“Demo-dogs? So there’s more?” Billy asked meeting Steve’s concerned brown eyes. Brows pinched he stared back at him, body ridged. “We gotta go back to the junkyard-”

“On a school night?” Dustin yelped aghast.

Billy turned to him, narrowing his eyes. Dustin shifted under his gaze, his eyes bouncing around the room.

“This is important.” Max insisted, glancing at Billy. “It’s still early, we can go check it out and come up with a plan. We don’t have to start anything yet.”

“What if it’s a trap?” Lucas challenged.

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Billy hissed.

Lucas bristled at the sound of Billy’s voice, but he didn’t turn to him. Eyes focused on Max. Max’s eyes darted at him trying to predict his reaction.

“Of course.” He bit. “Your idea of a plan is no plan. You have no idea what these things can really do.”

Billy clenched his jaw, he wasn’t wrong.

“No one said you dorks had to go.” Billy growled pulling himself to his feet. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Charging headlong into these things is the surest way to get yourself killed.” Mike snapped. “No party member, even a probationary member, goes alone.”

Billy glanced at Steve who stood with his fingers pressed into his temple, surprised.

“So then… What’s the plan?” Steve asked glancing about the room.

A decision clearly already made.

“Were going to the junkyard for the express purpose of reconnaissance.” Lucas declared, securing his camo-bandana around his forehead. “We’re locating the tunnel entrance there.”

“You got 5 minutes to suit up!” Dustin declared setting the timer on his digital watch.

Billy watched as they scattered in a hurry gathering whatever supplies they were going to need. Snatching the walkies off the charging cradle.

There was no time to go home and regroup.

“You’re not suiting up?” Billy asked glancing at Steve. Steve turned to him, a resolute glint to his eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m always ready.” He replied drawing the car keys from his jacket pocket.

Dustin stopped in front of him first.

“Hey Steve,” Dustin called eyes focused on his watch.

“Yeah?”

“You driving the Beamer?”

“Duh,”

“How many people fit in it?”

Steve froze, eyebrows furrowing trying to do the math, Billy grinned: they wouldn’t all fit without doubling up.

“If we put a couple in the trunk, it’ll be fine.” Billy replied with a wide smirk meeting Dustin’s eyes.

Dustin swallowed eyes wide as he moved away from them announcing they had about a minute.

Billy snickered quietly.

When Dustin called time everyone gathered at the foot of the stairs ready to go.

“What are you going to tell your mom?” Steve asked as he followed them up the stairs.

“You’re taking us for Pizza.” Mike called back at him.

“If we survive you are.” Max added.

“No one’s going to die!” Lucas yelled. “It’s a recon mission!!”

“Where are you going!?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice called as they emerged. She was just coming to the basement with a tray of snacks.

“Steve’s gonna buy us pizza!” Mike called without stopping making for the door.

She watched as they zipped past her.

“Why are you dressed like that?” She asked voice rising with annoyance.

“It’s cool!” Dustin called as he slipped out the door.

“Sorry, Mrs. Wheeler.” Steve replied following them out the door. “I’ll get them all home.”

“Have a good evening Mrs. Wheeler.” Billy smiled as he closed the door behind him.

Billy took over organizing them in the backseat, putting Dustin in the middle and then Max with Will on her lap behind Steve’s seat, and Lucas and Mike behind the passenger seat.

“Good to go,” He called as he slipped into the passenger seat.

“Everyone good?” Steve asked glancing at them in the rearview mirror.

“No.” They called in unison.

“Well too bad.” Steve replied turning the key and reversing out of the Wheeler’s drive way, faster than he really needed to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First apologies for the long period between updates.  
> Secondly the party goes hunting for Demo-dogs.

The drive was surprisingly lively, the dorks chattering excitedly in the backseat. The rain had started up again as the wipers cleared the windshield in front of him.

Billy watched them in the reflection of the passenger side mirror.

He looked at Lucas, there was nothing he hated about him, he didn't have a reason to hate him. He was just a kid. But Lucas was dangerous, whether he intended to or not.

Like Jacob. He’d his friend, his best friend, and the color of his skin hadn't mattered. Not until his dad saw them playing. He remembered how he'd dragged him out of the school and thrown him in the truck. The whole ride to the hospital, all the angry, vile things about how people like him ruined everything by degrees.

He felt his stomach twist.

It hurt so bad, and he cried and that only made it worse. It redirected his anger at him, calling him terrible things, words he didn’t even understand, but he could feel the hatred in them...

He remembered feeling so small in the passenger seat then.

At the hospital even seeing his mom couldn't make it better.

It hurt so bad, all of it, his arm, his heart, his head. It wasn't until later when he was back at school that the nurse realized how broken his arm was.

In the end, he’d done as he was told, because it was his father. He stopped being friends with Jacob, he blamed him for his arm, and avoid anyone who looked like him.

Worse yet, he’d believed his fucking lesson. He been obedient, an obedience learned at his father’s fists.

“You alright?” Steve called glancing over at him.

Billy nodded swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, feeling the half-healed split on it.

Watching the sparse rain hitting the glass. In the distance a gash of pink cut, through the heavy clouds exposing the last rays of sun.

He watched Steve turn back onto the familiar dirt road as they started on the bumpy road slower, the kids laughing and yelling in the back as they were jostled about.

Steve killed the engine and everyone climbed out of the car, the rain sparse more like a mist as they gathered in the headlights.

“Alright. Billy and I are going to go into the woods and search for any trace of Demo-dogs.” Steve called explaining their part.

“You guys are Detachment Alpha.” Dustin called. “I’m going with you. I’m in charge of the Walkie.”

Billy glanced at Steve, Steve nodded reluctantly.

“We’ll stay behind and secure the base, the bus.” Lucas added. “As Detachment Bravo.”

“ **Any** sign of Demo-dogs radio immediately. And prepare to fall back to the Beamer.” Mike added.

Everyone nodded in agreement under the sprinkling rain.

“Start by barricading the big windows on the bus.” Steve called as they broke off to complete their tasks. “We’ll help before we go into the woods to look around.”

Billy watched, he found the dynamic curious, Steve was giving orders but taking input from the dorks just as well. It was clear he was in charge, but there wasn’t one set leader among them.

Billy sidled up to Steve as he pulled a car door from the hood of a nearby car.

“They scare you don't they?”

Steve rolled his eyes and huffed out an annoyed breath, sparse raindrops catching on him.

"Quit running your mouth and grab that end will ya?"

Billy moved over to grab the other end of the door, together they lifted it.

"You’re gonna protect these idiots no matter what," Billy grunted as he followed Steve's lead towards the bus.

"But you're scared of these things. You're scared when they're not around."

Steve stared at him, eyes dangerous in the fading light. He exhaled a sharp breath through his nose.

"Thanks, get the other one over there." He replied gesturing towards a trunk door.

"Harrington," Billy called Steve stopped, his back to him. "You’re afraid. But you're not scared to face them, why?"

Steve glanced back at him.

"Make sure you get the top secured. Last time they almost got in that way."

Billy glanced at the bus, but let it go.

Seemed like they’d done something like this before, there were a lot piece on the bus already. Like it was decked out in junkyard armor.

“Where’s this going?” Billy asked holding up the trunk door.

“Up top!” Max called from inside the bus. Billy nodded and hoisted it up into the hands of Will and Mike.

After helping move a few more big pieces, Billy found Steve, hands on his hips surveying the bus. He chewed on his lip, he looked unsure.

“Not sure it’ll hold?” Billy asked.

Steve scoffed meeting his eyes.

“It’s a last resort. It has to, this time.” Steve replied turning and heading towards the Beamer keys dangling from his hand.

“You need a weapon.” Steve called as he unlocked the trunk of the Beamer.

“I thought this was a recon mission?” Billy asked following him.

“That’s the plan.” Steve replied as he threw the tarp out of the way, revealing a baseball bat imbedded with nails, Billy raised his eyebrows.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of it. He remembered the bat, but not the nails. No wonder Steve managed to take out the Demo-dog with it.

“We’re gonna be the back up plan.” Steve called drawing the bat and pocketing a red bandana.

Billy smiled wickedly.

“I’ve got this.” Billy replied drawing the switchblade and flicking it open. Steve glanced at the blade and then back at Billy’s self-satisfied grin.

“You don’t want those things close enough to use that.” Steve replied closing the trunk. Billy closed the blade and slipped it back into his jean pocket.

“You got another one of those then?” Billy asked with a smile. Steve rolled his eyes as he glanced about and found a tangle of discarded steel pipes. Most were long, twisted, bent and rusted; but he found a good one the length of his arm. He left the bat on the trunk as he walked over to the tangle.

He grabbed the pipe and twisted, uncoupling it from the L-shaped jointed that connected it to another length of pipe.

“Here.” Steve huffed with a grin, offering him the pipe. Billy took it and gripped it, the metal was cold and weighty in his grasp.

He glanced back at Steve.

“Trade ya for the bat?” Billy offered with a smirk.

Steve smiled and shook his head as he took the bat back.

“Come on, do your thing.”

Billy lowered the steel pipe to his side, closing his eyes.

The sparse rain, shown in his unsight, ripples that created silhouettes of faint light against the darkness.

He could see the junkers and the trees; in front of him, in the distance a small hunched shape he recognized.

“There’s one out there.” Billy called pointing into the trees as he opened his eyes.

“Just one?” Steve asked glancing into the woods and then back at the bus as he tied the bandana around his neck.

“That’s all I saw.” Billy replied, tightening his grip on the steel pipe.

“Alright, let’s go.” Steve replied.

“What about the brats?” Billy asked.

“If there’s just one, we can get it before it turns into a threat.”

“Alright!” Billy called smiling wickedly as he started towards the trees.

“Hey,” Steve called grasping his arm. Billy met his eyes. “Be careful, don’t just go running off.”

Billy smiled.

“I got it, relax.”

Steve shook his head, Billy was clearly too at ease.

The day had darkened, as if the color had been washed out of the world. The charcoal clouds above loomed, threatening more rain.

They didn’t have to venture too far before they could hear something moving through the shrubs. He didn’t have to close his eyes, he felt it’s presence.

“It’s close…” Billy whispered.

“Yeah,” Steve replied lifting the bat, following Billy’s line of sight.

Billy peered through the gloom the small hunched shape moving slowly hidden amongst the shadows of the forest floor. Meandering, searching like a dog.

It stopped suddenly, lifting its head.

The sun must have gone down obscured behind the clouds, because the world fell a shade darker, colder.

The Demo-dog turned its head towards him, and then turned towards Steve.

It growled softly, singularly focused on Steve. Billy stepped forward and it dashed away. Billy scanned around them, but he’d lost sight of it amongst the fresh darkness.

“Did it run?” Steve asked looking around.

It was quiet, except for the sound of heavy raindrops falling through the budding leaves above.

“No.” Billy whispered gripping the steel pipe tight. “I think it picked a favorite.”

Steve turned toward him but his expression was difficult to see.

Suddenly he heard leaves crunching.

Steve raised the bat, readying as the Demo-dog approached.

In the cold gloom, he almost thought it was a real dog by how casually it approached them. But he recognized its skinny shape and bud shaped head.

He moved closer to Steve.

The creature’s head swung side to side, not sure which to target. It snapped its split mouth, Billy moved closer. Steel pipe clenched in his hands.

His blood was singing in his veins, adrenaline coursing through him like electricity. Heart beating like a jackhammer: anticipating.

It turned towards him; just then Steve swung, the spike bat digging into its haunches.

The Demo-dog, screamed whirling towards Steve jerking the bat handle out his hands. It snarled and limped towards Steve, mouth open and threatening.

Steve raised his hands, backing away; he met Billy’s eyes briefly, signaling him.

“Hey!” He yelled charging at him, swinging the steel pipe down along its spine.

The Demo-dog shrieked, its legs almost giving out under it. It whimpered in pain as Billy struck it again and it collapsed under the second blow.

Billy moved towards its front watching closely as Steve moved to reclaim the bat, jerking it free. The creature snarled trying to get back on its feet.

Billy raised the steel pipe and struck its split head again, Steve did the same; until it collapsed thrashing violently.

They looked at each other, weapon’s gripped tight.

They knew what they had to do. But it made his stomach clench.

Steve didn’t hesitated and struck first. The bat making a disgusting wet thump, the noises the thing made wrenched his heart. But it wasn’t an animal. It was something dangerous.

Billy shut his eyes tight and delivered the bat as hard as he could on the back of the Demo-dog’s neck. The creature fell quiet and the blows that followed were a blur.

* * *

 

Finally they stopped, the thing still, both panting for breath.

Billy watched as Steve finally pulled himself upright, meeting his gaze; his breathing slowing.

Those brown eyes alight with something, that made his skin feel hot.

It happened without warning.

The steel pipe fell out of his hands and he crossed the small distance between them resolutely.

His lips crashed into his and he couldn't stop himself.

He heard the bat thud on the ground as Steve’s fingers sunk into the moist curls at the base of his neck.

There was no fighting it now, his own equally desperate hands grabbing his hips to pull them flush against one another.

Bruising, rushed, lips and teeth bumping clumsily.

Like breathing for the first time.

A rush, coursing through him, dizzying and dazzling. Sweeping him away.

None of it seemed real, but the strong, long fingers tangled in his hair anchored him to reality.

Finally they broke apart, still tangled in one another and sharing their first breath. Steve was smiling, his forehead against his, eyes closed.

“Shit Harrington,” Billy panted, eyes heavy. The after effects of the unsight dancing in his view.

“Just shut up,” Steve sighed kissing him again; taking his breath away all over again.

Billy gave in gladly, letting his hands slide up Steve’s back.

“ _Code red! Code red! Alpha Detachment we’re under attack! Repeat! We’re under attack!!_ ” The call came crackling over the static of a walkie-talkie.

Billy and Steve immediately, pulled a part.

Dustin was standing there, juggling the flashlight and trying turn the volume down on the walkie-talkie.

They looked at each other there was no time. The bus was under attack.

Billy’s heart was hammering in his chest.

He picked up the steel pipe, Steve was right behind him. He pushed Dustin forward, heading back towards the junkyard.

 Following Dustin’s flashlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not glossing over the racist thing, ok I sort of am.  
> But it's an important part of Billy's character that needs addressing in the cannon.   
> So yeah, I'm just putting a band-aid on it in this AU.  
> And I am moving on.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry to do this to you, after having a few nice moments in the previous chapter I gotta drag you through some tough times, because life... (I've updated the tags to go with this chapter)  
> it'll get a little better, eventually maybe...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty big chapter, I thought about breaking it up but then they'd just be little and feel more disconnected to I opted to keep it together and just make it one giant update!

“You didn’t see this one!” Steve called as they raced through the trees, towards the bus. The light of the Beamer’s headlights just visible.

“No!” Billy huffed ahead of them coming into the junkyard first.

Steve came to a jolting stop right behind him. The Demo-dog was snarling, snapping at the bus doors.

In a blink he was back there again that chilly November night. The banging reverberating in his head, watching it from the other side. He was there, breath short, in the dark twisting heat of the tunnels and he couldn’t move.

“HEY!” Billy bellowed, but the thing didn’t turn, solely focused on the kids in the bus.

“Ugly mutt! I’m talking to you!” Billy yelled striking the steel pipe across the hood of a junker as he approached it.

The thing spun around without warning, charging at Billy without a second of hesitation.

Everything seemed to shatter as Billy went down under it.

His mind a garbled mess of sounds: screaming, banging, growling. He stood, frozen to the spot.

Dustin’s hand grabbed his shoulder, urging him to do something! Snapping him out of his state.

“Get off him!” Steve yelled surging forward.

The thing didn’t budge, steel pipe in its jaws.

Suddenly it slumped, like its legs gave out. Sliding along the steel pipe to the ground on top of Billy.

Steve couldn’t move fearing the worst, the pattering rain around them starting to grow heavy again in the silence.

Dustin came to stand next to him, mouth slack. The light of his flashlight on the Demo-dog and Billy beneath it.

The creature moved, stiffly as though trying to get up.

Steve yelled and swung the bat into it’s head, with a wet crunch.

“Easy tiger!” Billy yelled from beneath the Demo-dog’s bulk. “I think I got it.”

Steve sputtered a breath between horrified and relieved, running an unsteady hand through his hair. Eyes glassy as Billy pushed the thing off of him.

"Billy is fucking indestructible!" Dustin yelled, pulling his cap from his curls. Eyes wide in disbelief.

The kids emerged from the emergency exit at the back of the bus, excited.

"Language!" Steve barked over his shoulder, as he turned back to Billy.

 "You alright?" He asked as Billy took his offered hand and hoisted him back on to his feet.

"Golden," he laughed winking at Steve.

"Golden huh?" He asked poking the puncture in his right shoulder. Billy hissed and softly batted his hand away as he slipped past him, picking up the steel pipe and holding his arms up victorious.

"Did you squirts see that?" Billy bellowed. "That's how you kill a Demo-dog!"

The kids were ecstatic as they surrounded him.

Steve watched; tugging on the bandana around his neck, it felt tight.

His heart still unsteady.

When Billy’d gone down, the Demo-dog on top of him, he was sure he was dead. Watching him laughing and showing off the steel pipe, felt like a different world from the clenching ache in his chest.

He exhaled deeply, glancing down at the crumpled Demo-dog.

He turned around and knelt down to examine it. Dark almost black blood oozed out of wounds in its neck and chest, the switchblade just visible, jammed to the hilt into its neck.

The switchblade had been handy after all. He sighed jerking it free from the creature’s flesh.

“What happened?” Dustin asked.

“No clue!” Max sighed leaning against the bus. “One second we’re finishing up barricading the bus, everything was quiet. The next we’re running for cover.”

Steve looked around as the kids talked.

“It didn’t show up until we left?” Steve asked examining. The doors the Demo-dog had been clawing at.

“No, we were fine.” Mike called. “We thought we weren’t going to find anything, and then…”

Steve stopped examining the fresh red smear on the door.

“What happened here?” He called pointing to the blood.

“This idiot cut himself.” Max griped, nudging Lucas.

“There was a jagged piece of metal there!” He yelled pointing to the door. His camo bandana was wrapped around his right hand.

“Billy?” Steve called. the rain starting to patter faster against the bus, washing the blood away.

Billy was standing, his eyes closed as he looked around.

“What do you see?” Steve asked already guessing what he was going to say.

“The blood is the colors.” Billy murmured focused on Lucas. “His hand looks like a damn beacon!”

Steve swallowed chewing on his lip as he glanced at the vast darkness around them. They could be surrounded already. His feet already moving him towards the beamer, as he dug his keys out.

“We gotta go,” Steve called popping the trunk and tossing the bat inside. “Get in the car! We gotta go!”

Nobody hesitated or protested and climbed into the car. Billy took the steel pipe with him as he jumped into the passenger seat.

Steve turned over the engine and peeled out of there as quickly as he could. Eyes scanning the darkness, expecting one to jump out or to see it’s shadow in the beam of the headlights.

“I saw something else…” Billy murmured once they were on the main road back into town, the car fell quiet.

Steve glanced at him, too shaken up to take his eyes off the road.

“What?” Max asked from behind them.

“North, there was a point, where all the blue lines met.” Billy murmured, Steve glanced at him. His eyes were closed again, he clenched the steering wheel. “Like the center of a spider’s web.”

Steve glanced down, Billy’s hand was trembling in his lap. He looked in the rearview, the kids were deep in discussion of what that could be.

Steve shifted, left hand on the wheel and grasped Billy’s in his right.

Billy didn’t move, allowing Steve’s fingers to slip between his fingers; keeping his gaze out the window, the rain falling hard outside as they drove back into town.

* * *

 

By the time they’d gotten back into town again the rain had stopped, there wasn’t any daylight left, just dark wet streets, and lights from houses and businesses along the main avenue.

Steve pulled into the convenience store parking lot.

“We’ll get some stuff to patch you up here.” Steve called killing the engine. “You guys stay put-”

Before he could finish, the kids were already climbing out of the car.

He glanced at Billy who just smirked at him, eyebrow raised.

“Little shits,” Steve hissed unbuckling his seatbelt and plucking the key’s from the ignition.

He followed Billy through the doors the bell chiming as they entered the brightly lit convenience store. The kids were off ahead of them rummaging the junk food aisles as Billy splintered off.

 “Excuse me,” Steve called approaching the cashier. “First aid stuff?”

The bored guy looked up and pointed towards one of the far aisles.

“Thanks.” Steve replied turning and heading for the aisle.

Billy stood browsing the magazine rack. He could see the dark red spot on the shoulder of his jacket. He was surprised he wasn’t completely covered in blood…

He ducked his head and focused on the stuff in the aisle.

 Billy had to have some kind of pain tolerance, he seemed completely unfazed to the wound in his shoulder. He looked at him again, distracted by something in the magazine he was holding, a small smile playing on his lips as he read. Steve licked his lips, kneeling down, his eyes on the first aid supplies. There was something so incredibly soft about him, he scoffed.

“What’s so funny?” Billy asked peeking over the aisle.

“You,” Steve replied smiling up at him. “How bad is the shoulder?”

Billy glanced at his shoulder.

“Not so bad.” He shrugged.

“Band-aids then?” Steve asked showing him the box with the little rocket ships on them, Billy rolled his eyes flipping him off.

“Disinfectant, gauze and tape it is.” Steve murmured collecting the items and heading towards the cash register.

Steve dropped the items on the counter, just as flurry of hands tossed things on to the counter.

“What?”

“Come on Steve,” Mike called waiting behind him. “Don’t be stingy.”

Steve eyed all the junk food on the counter and glared at them as Billy appeared on his wing. Depositing a pack of cigarettes on the counter with the other things.

The cashier eyed the items and then glanced at Steve.

“Is everything together?” He asked unsure.

“Yeah,” Steve huffed drawing his wallet. “But this means NO PIZZA!”

 The kids groaned complaining loudly as the cashier started ringing up the items. He glanced at them.

“What happened to you man?” He asked motioning to his own shoulder.

Billy glanced down at his bloody shoulder.

“Monster fight.” Billy replied casually.

Everyone froze, stealthily eyeing each other. Before the cashier laughed and rang up and bagged the rest of the items.

The kids swiped the bag with all the treats and head out as Steve paid and then he and Billy followed after.

The sporadic rains had cleared the streets, too gloomy and cold to be outside, the overcast sky threatening more rain. The evening darker than it was late.

The kids seemed reeved up, chattering excitedly as they pillaged the plastic bag with their junk food. Their attention turning to the arcade across the road and talking about someone’s high score.

When they simultaneously turned back to him.

"Can we?"

Steve looked at each of their ridiculously pleading faces… and at the bright lights of the arcade across the street. He exhaled, caving; shaking his head, he threw is hands up defeated.

"Fine, go- ya brats, leave me here to take care of this."

“Thanks!”

"10 minutes! Or I’m leaving you here!” Steve yelled as they dashed across the empty street. “And moneys your own problem!"

He turned back to Billy sitting on the trunk of Beamer grinning wide.

"Get that off your face..." Steve growled as he rummaged through the plastic bag next to him.

"You don't gotta do this.” Billy called leaning closer to him. "Wouldn't be the first time I gotta patch myself up."

Steve stopped and raised his head to meet his eyes.

"I'm doing it. I bought the stuff already. Now get your coat off."

"Is that any way to ask someone to take their clothes off?" Billy teased, flicking his tongue across his bottom lip as he smirked.

Steve felt his heart jump. He’d almost forgotten about the kiss, with the life threatening peril and all. He swallowed, he wasn’t getting flustered by Billy Hargrove.

Steve cocked his head and leaned into him, Billy felt his heart slam suddenly into his ribs.

"Please?" Steve whispered stepping between his knees; too soft, too sweetly, almost seductively.

Billy swallowed eyes locked with Steve’s, but he didn't put any space between them and quietly did as he was asked.

He could see Steve’s smirk as he uncapped the disinfectant bottle.

"Be honest," Billy called as Steve dabbed some disinfectant on the paper towel. "Do you think my basketball career will ever be the same?"

Steve glanced up at him a smile playing on his lips.

"I'm sorry to say, _this_ is a career ending injury." Steve replied as he dabbed the paper towel on the injury. Billy hissed, it stung, but then he started laughing.

Steve pulled the paper towel back and looked at him eyebrows peaked as Billy chuckled.

Billy smiled at him, biting his tongue as he motioned for Steve to continue.

Steve shook his head as he cleaned the wound, Billy stifling his laughter.

“It will leave a nasty scar though.” Steve replied eyeing the gash left by the claw, he was ridiculously lucky to have only gotten caught by one.

“What’s one more.” Billy replied easily.

 “Scars are cool,” Steve murmured, raising his eyes from the task to meet his. Dabbing the last of the blood away.

Billy smiled, meeting his eyes.

Suddenly a bank of headlights washed over them, and Billy stomach dropped. He recognized the truck.

His father’s.

Steve glanced back as the truck pulled up on them, parking next to the Beamer. Billy immediately got on to his feet, jerking his shirt and jacket back on, and pushing past Steve to intercept his father.

His heart was hammering in his chest, as his father stormed out of the truck and round the bed towards them.

“What on God’s green earth is all this?” He asked motioning to them.

Billy’s eyes dropped to the worn asphalt of the parking lot.

“I got stabbed-”

“Stabbed?” The man echoed. “By who?”

He didn’t glance back at Steve, there was no way he could say a monster. There would be no way in hell his father would believe him.

“Some drunk bum,”

“You let yourself get stabbed by a drunk?” He asked disgusted, hands on his hips. He could see his father’s eyes critically examining Steve.

It made his heart clench, muscles pull tight.

“And what’s all this with _him_?” Billy flinched at the amount of disdain his father could cram into one word.

“Nothing,” Billy replied, eyes just briefly meeting his. “Just patching me up.”

His father stood, eyes scanning both of them, he didn’t believe him. It was obvious in his posture and his tone.

“Get in the truck.” He called turning and walking back towards the cab.

Billy’s feet wouldn’t move, rooted to the spot. He didn’t want to get in the truck. He didn’t want to hear what he was going to yell at him the whole ride back to that place.

“Billy,” He called voice low, calm, but he knew that voice, it made his blood run cold in his veins.

He knew he couldn’t say no, he could, maybe, talk him into letting him stay. But he didn’t want to get in the truck.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Billy tried, voice strained.

His father stopped, and walked back to him, dragging his hand over his jaw as he came to stand in front of Billy.

“That wasn’t a request, William. You get in that truck right now.” His father reiterated.

Billy could feel himself wound tight, afraid to break. He couldn’t say no, he couldn’t talk his way out of it. But he wasn’t going to get in that truck.

“No sir,” Billy ground out, chest heaving.

His father cocked his head.

“Are you disobeying _me_ , boy?” He growled.

Billy raised his eyes to meet him, his fist clenched tight. He wasn’t budging. He wasn’t getting in the truck.

“You’re going to make me do this _here_? In front of your _friend_?” He snarled leaning into Billy’s face.

Billy stood unwavering.

The fist that curled violently into the hair at the base of his neck sent him twisting into his grasp.

“This stupid flamer hair!” He called dragging Billy towards the truck.

“Let him go!” Steve yelled.

His father turned back to face Steve, Billy tightly in his grasp.

“You stay out of this.” He warned.

“Get your hands off him!” Steve insisted moving towards them.

“Boy, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“No, Steve replied. “I know.”

His father stopped, glaring at him.

“Brave for a fairy.” He laughed.

Steve’s shoulders stiffened.

“You let him go,”

“Or else what Nancy boy?” His father taunted.

Steve got right into his face, and Billy felt his heart stop dead.

Steve wasn’t a fighter. Not that _this_ was a fight. Steve couldn’t possibly be a match for his father. He could remember clearly what his own fists had done to him, and that turned his stomach in such a violent way he felt he was going to throw up.

Still, just like that night in November, just like in the forest not even an hour ago; even in this very moment he wasn’t backing down.

Before his brain could process what he should do next, his hand had grasped his father’s wrist and wretched it out of his hair tearing the strands in his grasp.

They scuffled and Billy could feel their hands grabbing him, pulling him opposite directions as he stumbled, jostled between them. Trying to get free of both, but finally caught in the vice like grip of his father’s hand.

Everything stopped when red and blue lights flashed and the huge Blazer pulled up on them, the scene washed in its yellow headlights.

Billy winched as his father turned to face the police vehicle, grip tight on his shoulder now.

“Officer, nothing to worry about here, just getting my boy in line.” His father called voice light, friendly.

“Chief of Police actually,” The older man called adjusting his hat. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Chief,” He replied casually, with a pleasant smile. “Well, no problem at all. Just trying to get my son home.”

The man was tall, with a large frame like a brick wall, he couldn’t make out his face as he glanced past them.

“Steve.” He greeted, turning back to him. “Billy?”

Billy nodded, meeting his eyes, but he was sure he hadn’t met the Sheriff.

“Sir, I’m going to ask you to let the boy go.” The sheriff called.

“Excuse me?” His father called, his smile faltering.

“Let the boy go.” The sheriff repeated.

His father stood stiff, his hand clenching his bicep staring down the sheriff.

“I am his father.” He stated. “It is my prerogative how I deem to disciple my faggot son.”

Hopper nodded slowly.

“You are his father.” Hopper replied stepping closer to them. Billy’s eyes flitted up. He was much taller than both of them. “But as an officer of the law in Hawkins, Indiana it is my duty to inform you: that there is a vast difference between disciple and assault. And sir, this looks like the later.”

His father’s head was tilted up, he swallowed his anger, grip clenched as though to break his arm; before he finally released him, shoving him back as he stumbled into Steve.

“Are you alright?” Steve whispered steadying him. Billy nodded stiffly.

Hopper glanced at them before meeting his father’s hard, indignant glare.

"Now, what you _think_ he is or isn't doesn't matter. That KID, is your son. And if you ever put your hands on him again, I will put your ass in jail. Is that clear?"

His eyes shifted from the sheriff to Billy, his son wasn't afraid, he was openly defiant in Steve's grip.

He didn’t responded in words, but Billy could sense the promise of payback in his eyes; before he turned without another word and climbed back in the truck.

The truck roared to life and he peeled out, careful to avoid the sheriff’s vehicle.

Steve released a heavy breath, and patted Billy’s uninjured shoulder smiling.

“Hopper!” He called walking towards the sheriff. “Great timing! How did you know we were here?”

“Mike called.” He explained. “Said I should catch up with you two, since I missed you last time. Florence was good about radioing me this time.”

Billy glanced towards the arcade as the pack of dweebs came pouring out, chattering lively. Oblivious. Billy put some space between he and Steve. Screwing his eyes tight, the tears stinging and threatening to fall.

“What are we looking at here?” Hopper asked Steve behind him.

Billy listened as Steve explained. He drew the pack of cigarettes, unwrapping them and popping them open, his hands trembling. The second hit of adrenaline had his body rattling, glancing over his shoulder, he just met Steve’s eyes.

There was that same concern, in the those dark eyes; but he’d give him some time. Billy felt the vice around his heart release just a notch as he put the cigarette between his lips. Pocketing the pack in his breast pocket and drawing out the lighter.

He raised the small flame to the tip and drew in the first puff in a shaky inhale. Looking at the bright interior of the convenience store through the big windows.

He kinda got it know. Steve wasn’t afraid of the monsters, just like he wasn’t afraid of his father. It was the space in between, the moments when you didn’t know _when_ it was coming. He knew what was coming. But, would it be when he got home, tomorrow, or the day after? He took another drag, filling his lungs before dropping the cigarette and stomping it out on the wet pavement.

Steve eyed him as he rejoined him in the headlights of the blazer.

“You alright?” Steve asked as he moved Dustin over to stand next to Steve.

He gave a brisk nod, Steve bobbed his head and turned back to Mike who was explaining about the dimensional tears.

Billy met Hopper’s eyes, he shifted nervously. It was as though the sheriff could see he wasn’t really alright, as if he knew _everything_. Billy dropped his eyes to the pavement and just listened.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, aftermath, thoughts and regrets for our boys...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, but I got stuck and had to work somethings out.  
> It's a little on the short side but, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Steve jammed his hands in his pockets as the kids headed back to into the Wheeler house. Billy had been quiet on the trip back over; standing by the Beamer smoking a cigarette, he still looked to be lost in his own head.

“Hey,” Steve called casually. “If you and Max, need a ride... I mean, I know it’s a bit out of the way…”

Billy gave a small smile, exhaling a thread of smoke skyward.

“I’ll take a ride!” Dustin called appearing out of nowhere, looking up at them grinning.

Steve looked at him, surprised, but nodded.

“Cool!” Dustin chirped dashing towards the passenger’s side. “Shotgun!”

Steve looked at him, looking a little out of sorts as he ran his hand through his hair, the rain and moisture was putting his hair products to the ultimate test.

“I’ll go get her.” Billy called dropping the cigarette butt and stomping it out.

“Billy,” He called reaching out, grasping his arm without thinking; he half expected him to rip his arm out of his grasp but he didn’t. He glanced about making sure there was no one, just Dustin in the passenger seat messing with the stereo.

 He met his eyes in the dim light of the street lamps.

 His heart hammered in his chest. He knew what he wanted to say, but getting it out… He didn’t know where they stood with each other. He wasn’t sure he could even call him a friend. Then again, he felt his cheeks heat up thinking about the kiss again.

“Listen, you don’t have to go back there.” Steve offered. “You, can stay-”

“Thanks,” Billy smiled. “But I’m not running from him.”

Steve’s heart dropped, it showed in his sad brown eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” Billy replied, eyes darting towards the front door as Max emerged. “Hey! Come on, Steve’s giving us a ride!”

Steve sighed as Billy turned opening the door as Max climbed in maneuvering her skateboard out of the way as she climb over behind Dustin.

“Steve,” Billy called. “I’ll remember that offer though.”

Steve half smiled as he turned to get in the driver’s seat.

* * *

 

Steve watched, he could feel the smile tugging on his lips as he watched Billy saunter to the front door, like it was a red carpet. He kind of hoped he would look back but he didn’t, pulling the door open to let Max in first and then they were gone…

He heard a feline-like purr and he remembered he wasn't alone.

He shifted back, and turned to face forward.

He could see Dustin out of the corner of his eye. Grinning wide, and he hesitated to face him.

"So," Dustin purred. "Billy..."

Steve exhaled a heavy sigh and dropped his head on the steering wheel.

He just wanted to enjoy the feeling of the kiss, the soft look in his eye, even the unsteady feel of his hand in his on the drive back into town… And not think about that one, giant, glaring detail; amongst all the other gnarly details...

He'd kissed Billy Hargrove.

"Yeah...?" Steve exhaled, still refusing to make eye contact.

"You kissed him?"

Steve nodded, he didn't think he could split the difference with the admission that Billy had _kissed him_.

"Does that mean you're a _homosexual_?" He asked unsure. "Cuz, I mean that's cool! It makes no difference-"

Steve's eyes popped, head snapping up, as Dustin went on about how it didn't matter to him and on and on, he couldn't hear him. His brain hung up on the last word before the rest of it: Homosexual.

"Please stop," Steve groaned. "Don't say _that_ word..."

Dustin stopped suddenly.

"What word?" Dustin asked confused.

"Love? Or him?"

Steve cringed, realizing he'd been left behind by Dustin's ramblings.

"Yeah, those ones too..."

"But you kissed him... that means you _like_ him doesn't it?"

Steve ran a heavy hand through his hair, realizing they should probably get going. He shifted gears and started back on the road, headed to Dustin's home.

They sat, in mild silence the radio playing softly, filling the awkward space.

Dustin eyed him expectantly, still waiting for an answer.

Steve glanced at him.

"I guess..." Steve caved.

"That's good, you're over Nance," Dustin smiled putting his hand on his shoulder. Steve gave a small smile in return. " _Billy_ though?"

Steve's face fell.

"I mean nothing by that." Dustin replied. "Just, that that's _Billy Hargrove_..."

Steve knew what Dustin was getting at.

It was kind of a scary thought, on a bunch of levels.

What was there to like about Billy Hargrove? He was mostly a dick, with a mean right hook. Did he _like_ him? He wasn’t completely sure of it… He just knew what he felt: He cared if Billy was ok or not. Other than that he didn’t know what to call it.

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” Steve called glancing over at him. Dustin nodded vigorously sitting up attentively. “I have no flipping clue about _any of this_ , so can we drop it? And you know, keep it between us?”

Dustin motioned his hand in front of his lips, zipping them and tossing the key behind him.

Steve smiled and did the same.

That should buy enough time, _hopefully_. Let him figure some of this mind-bendingly weird crap out.

* * *

 

Steve had gotten back home to a dark house and parent’s fast asleep.

He’d driven back to the junkyard to get rid of the Demo-dog corpses on his own. It was stupid to go alone but he couldn’t drag anyone else out there with him. After 20 minutes of trying to dig in the half frozen soil, he’d called it quits and jammed the two things into a hollowed out junker. Hoping no one would happen upon them, unlikely but- He’d get back out there to dispose of them properly after school.

He was exhausted, drained as he stumbled through the dark, cold vacant house. It was hard to tell when his parents were home from when they weren’t.

He collapsed into to his pillows, muddy sneakers still on and promptly passed out. The gross swampy scent of the Demo-dogs and soil clung to him like soap scum, but he was too tired to care.

* * *

 

 Steve groaned peeling his face off the pillows as his alarm blared on the nightstand. He squinted at the damn thing. Groaning as he rolled onto his side, awkwardly twisted up in is jacket.

He sat up feeling like the living dead. He felt hungover but he was pretty damn sure he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol.

He rubbed his face with his hands roughly, trying to wipe sleep off his face, only to rub some real, mystery grime on his skin.

 “Ugh,” He cringed remembering the end of his night as he pulled himself out of bed and headed to the shower.

There were way too many things for so few hours: Billy had powers, Hawkins could be infested with Demo-dogs again, Billy’s dad was an even bigger asshole than Billy was, and…

He stopped himself.

He’d kissed Billy. Well the other way around, but he’d kissed him back.

It was way too early to split his exhausted brain with this shit.

He needed to do three things and that was it. Nothing else but that.

Shower, eat, get to school. He’d deal with all the other interdimensional-Billy related shit later.

* * *

 

Billy inspected his tired eyes in the mirror, brushing his damp hair out of the way. They looked red but no worse than some days when he’d sneak out to get wasted.

He flexed, flinching at the sharp, stabbing pain in his shoulder. Dark crusted over blood covered the quarter sized wound. The exhaustion still lingering in his muscles was a bigger pain in the ass, than the puncture.

He tugged his jeans up, he’d slipped them on after he’d showered and was just about to choose a shirt, when realized he’d need to rebandage the wound.

Billy kicked the shoebox full of first aid stuff out from under his bed as he knelt down examining what he’d stored up.

Last night when he’d gotten in his father hadn’t even looked at him. Billy didn’t push it and went straight to his room. He sat for a good 10 minutes, heart hammering; just waiting for the sound of his father’s footsteps, but they never came. Still he waited, exhausted he eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

He plucked the scraps of gauze and half-spent roll of medical tape from the box and turned back towards the mirror. He sat on the floor in front of the mirror. The bleeding had stopped last night. Steve had cleaned it and had only gotten to put a swath of gauze on it before the whole thing…

He couldn’t meet the eyes of his own reflection as he prepped the fresh gauze. Cutting strips of tape and sticking them to the side of the mirror.

He sighed stopping himself and meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He’d really done it. He didn’t have a single thought about it the moment it happened, and there wasn’t time immediately afterwards… But he’d kissed Steve.

He wanted to bang his head against the nearest hard surface, both out happiness and sheer embarrassment.

He’d never kissed a boy before. He’d thought about it, but it was something he was sure he’d never do. But he did, and then Steve kissed him back.

The warm feeling in his chest, turned into a tight, burning strain.

He’d kissed a boy. That wasn’t normal. Those thoughts had never seemed normal though. This was something he’d tried to ignore and lock away inside of him.

His stomach churned uneasily. He held the fresh gauze with one hand as he placed the strip of tape over it securing it to his skin.

Despite his best efforts to keep that part of him boxed away, and be as normal as possible. His father seemed to know; like a dog sniffing out rot. Even before he was really old enough to understand what he was accusing him of…

Maybe he didn’t know what he was supposed to hide then. Or he just wasn’t good at hiding it. It never got any better, no matter what he did.

He didn’t look at himself again as he picked everything up, sliding the box under the bed. He took the maroon button up off the bed and slipped it on, nimbly buttoning it up. He fell heavy on the bed to put on his socks and still muddy boots.

He didn’t have the slightest clue of what the hell he was doing. Why he’d done it, fuck! It didn’t even matter, he knew in his gut he wanted to do it again, and worse he wanted more.

He could feel the blood surging at his temple as he ran his unsteady hands over his face, his muscles tight, heart hammering.

What if it was a mistake? What if Steve didn’t want any of it? He could feel his heart drop as he clenched his fists. Trying to hold himself together.

If Steve didn’t feel the same, he knew another little piece of him would break off. But he would never want or even ask Steve to be something he wasn’t…

He knew what that was like; breaking every bone in your body and holding your breath in, while in their presence, just to suit their idea of who you should be. He’d done it for too many years.

Billy swallowed the knot in his throat as he got to his feet. There were 3 things he needed to do. Face his father downstairs, make it to school, and cut Steve loose.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, apologies if this chapter is hard to follow or choppy I needed to cover some ground, and set up (kind of) for what came next between these two.

Billy knew what he had to do, when he spotted him talking to the tiny brunette at his locker. He felt like his heart was in a vice. Steve was smiling good naturedly down at her. He swallowed the knot in his throat as he made his way through the main hall. Tommy H. at his wing jawing on about some lame shit.

He watched her put her small hand on his shoulder and head off ahead of him, he nodded focusing back on the stuff in his locker. He wouldn’t see him coming until it was too late…

He’d probably done this stupid gesture a hundred times. Never had he even thought about it like at this moment, everything tumbling ruthlessly in his head.

He shouldered past Steve, hard, knocking him forward; he just caught himself to keep from slamming into the locker, his books and bag falling to the ground.

He immediately turned back, brow furrowed in anger as his face slipped into confusion upon recognizing him.

Billy clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to grip his shoulder. He could feel the pang of pain from the wound all the way to his core.

“What the hell Hargrove?” Steve barked, Tommy at his back laughing obnoxiously.

Steve eyes swept past the faces of the others. He recognized them, guys from the basketball team, his own former cronies.

“You Harrington.” Billy snarled, he could see Steve’s eyes scan the curious glances of bystanders before falling back on him. “Seeing you all lost puppy over Miss Perfect.”

“Whatever,” Steve murmured dismissively. He clenched his jaw, Steve would probably not get why he was doing what he was doing.

“Whatever?” Billy goaded, stepping on Steve’s stuff.

Steve exhaled sharply through his nose, not backing off. Brown eyes set beautifully, defiantly on his. He could hear the other idiots chattering mockingly like morons behind him.

He was an idiot too, he couldn’t think of a better way to make things normal so he was running away, back to what he knew.

Billy grinned wickedly, grabbing Steve roughly by the jacket.

“HEY!” The biology teacher’s voice boomed out of nowhere. “What the hell are you two doing?!”

Steve looked down at Billy, challengingly.

Billy’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip as he released Steve’s jacket.

“Nothing,” Billy replied straightening out the jacket. “Steve here, just had some fuzz on his nice, expensive jacket.”

The morons behind him snickered, insisting Billy was just trying to be helpful.

“Yeah, right.” The man barked. “Get your sorry self to class. NOW.”

“Of course, Sir.” Billy replied as he stared at Steve before he headed on down the hall with the others in tow.

His shoulder aching punishingly. He hoped it was enough to put some distance between them. For him it was nothing new, he was already not normal, but Steve wasn’t. There was no reason to drag him down with him.

* * *

 

Steve felt shell-shocked, his ears were ring as he watched Billy walk away with Tommy H. and those other lemmings.

He looked around, wondering if this was a dream; but his heart hurt too much to be a dream…

In those few minutes it was like time had turned back 6 months.

His breathing felt short and he slammed his fist against the locker, it earned him some startled and confused looks, and pain.

Still he didn’t feel he could believe it. Was everything he thought he knew about Billy Hargrove bullshit?

He felt the anger, acrid and rising in his throat.

Fine! Fuck him! This just made it a whole lot easier. He could get eaten by a Demogorgon for all he cared!

* * *

 

By lunch time the initial anger he’d felt had simmered down. He was still in a shitty mood, and even though he hated to admit. He knew he was angry because he felt so hurt by all of it.

He felt like a dumbass.

Billy returning to his asshole behavior, and wanting nothing to do with him, should be one giant jerkwad-shaped weight off his shoulders…

But it wasn’t.

The more he thought about it, the more it felt wrong.

That jackass couldn’t tumble into his life, make him give a shit and _feel things_ then fuck off like it was nothing.

Especially not with the mess he’d left in him…

Confused, conflicted, relieved, defeated; he knew what he felt. It wasn’t that long ago he’d felt it when things fell apart with Nancy.

* * *

 

Tuesday was the worst, spending all day watching for Steve. Being the reason he wasn’t okay, but wanting to make sure he was alright, if only from a distance. Worst, was knowing he had to keep that distance, for his sake.

He looked annoyed, but other than that seemed alright. Going on about his daily school life, like everything was normal.

Fucking normal.

But nothing was _normal_.

None of them knew about anything. Absorbed in typical, egotistical topics of high school life, and it was surreal; once or twice he just burst out laughing at their ridiculously asinine concerns.

There were monsters out there, and not one of these idiots knew how tiny they really were.

Then again, he did and was choosing ignorance.

All he had to do was not close his eyes for an extend period of time, and he was normal-ish too. The wound on his arm had come along in healing, and the one on his shoulder would too, and then there wouldn’t be any visible evidence.

Nothing, but the faint marks on his skin and the ache in his chest that would last till God knows when…

Wednesday was a rinse, dry, repeat kind of day. Only 60 days until the end of the quarter, give or take a few. Then again, Hawkins might be obliterated by interdimensional space demons any day…

If it wasn’t, and things continued on their normal path, Steve would graduate and probably be gone. The way he was supposed to.

He really didn’t know anything about him, would he go off to college? Or stick around? Would monster hunting become his top priority? Or working his way up in his father’s company, like Tommy H. liked to bitch about.

Putting the space between them was easy. Keeping it, was what he would have to do.

He’d put all of himself back in the box, and be exactly what his father and everyone else wanted him to be. Keep pretending no matter how much it hurt or how exhausting it was.

* * *

 

Tuesday had been shitty, but at least it’d prepared him for Wednesday. He’d kind of expected to get some shit from Billy, but that wasn’t the case he hadn’t even see him…

Steve groaned catching himself glancing around the lunchroom; despite telling himself not to, he found himself still searching the school or hallways for him.

He _should_ feel relieved. Billy had made it everything very clear.

After having some time to think, he realized, he was hurt but it hadn’t actually changed anything about how he felt. Somehow that was a whole other can of worms all on its own…

He’d never looked, or even thought about guys in a kissing kind of way.

He focused on the dark haired guy a few tables away, chatting with a couple of girls.

There was nothing attractive about him. Jason was one of the guys Carol had always insisted he invite to his keggers; dark chocolate colored curls, that didn't rival Billy’s at all. Square jaw, fair skin: nothing stood out. But if he had to rank them, Jason had been second best, that was before Billy came and flipped everything on its head.

He took a drink from his Dr. Pepper as he scanned across the lunchroom again. Really, no one stood out, Hawkins Indian was not known for its gorgeous locals...

Present company excluded.

Suddenly he met Billy's bright blue eyes. He sucked in a breath. Immediately choking on his drink; he put it down, coughing loudly as he beat on his chest.

He cleared his aching throat, eyes teary as he straightened himself up. A few stranger's eyed him. But those didn't matter. It wasn't their gaze that had caused his heart to stutter, his cheeks felt hot as he stared at his half eaten sandwich he couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes again.

He cleared his throat, trying to ease the ache; it must have been a coincidence.

He raised his eyes expecting to see him engaged with the people crowded around him, but he wasn’t. His eyes were set on him. Blatantly staring, unconcerned as he took a bite of his cafeteria pizza.

Steve dropped his gaze, quickly picking up his tray. Feeling out of sorts.

Whatever game Billy was playing he couldn’t keep up.

He remembered going to the arcade with Dustin. They’d played a game where after you finished the first 5 levels you played them again but backwards. That’s what it felt like. Nothing had changed, but everything was different.

He told himself he just needed to get him out of his head. He’d be fine, he’d get used to it. Like he’d done with Nancy…

The nerds didn’t really need Billy, _he_ didn’t need Billy.

But he felt he was lying to himself. He’d loved Nancy to the very end, even when she’d fallen out of love.

He’d known it.

But he’d still clung to the idea that **if** they stayed together a little longer it would come back…

He wasn’t an idiot, whatever Billy was doing had nothing to do with him, but with himself. His father was abusive and terrifying, his powers were something else and he didn’t even know how, or what to use them for.

He had the nagging feeling that Billy was pushing him away to protect him. That was a stranger though. He didn’t have special powers or any kind of sixth sense; but, what he’d felt from Nancy when things had ended… He didn’t get from Billy at all.

It made his stomach twist, in a hopeful, confused- you’re a dumbass kind of way. Because he knew he’d give him space to figure it out, he trusted his gut.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated.
> 
> I finally have a solid idea for this thing, so I'm working on it. :)


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